Falling in the Plains of Time
by Reige
Summary: Warning:Altair/OFC! Given the assignment from her 11th grade teacher, Gabrielle must write a 5 page essay about the Third Crusade, but after taking an ancient book holding information of the old Holy Land War, Gabrielle is taken back to meet Altair!
1. The Assignment

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:** I've been getting a lot of pleasing reviews and I am sorry about the long wait, but I also apologize that I have erased the chapters because I am renewing the story, there were some flames that said that they absoluetly hated that I used my SECOND PERSON POV and so I had to do a little soul-searching so that I wouldn't accidently keep replacing an "I" with a "you". I also got a little better at writing but not enough, it would be nice for people to leave comments **(an no flames please!) **to tell me what should be here and there but for now I'm doing this new thing for you guys to please! I hope you like the new and improved story and I promise that it will still have its humor but its more of an adult thing rather than a childish kind because we all hate to see an OOC-ish Altair, do we not?

Now I introduce my own character, Gabrielle **(pronounced Gabriel)**, you all remember her, don't you my faifthfull veiwers? Also, I would like add that if you would like, you can send in some of your own OC's to blend in Masyaf to interact with the characters in my story **(although I can't promise that they'll stick around much)**. Thank you and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

Staring at the blackboard and expecting it to just magically erase all those stupid going away letters was not helping my day. Even if I tried to stare a little harder nothing happened, I could only entertain myself by listening to the History Teacher, Ms. Hedges, as she ranted on about something or the other. I glanced at the clock, wishing it would hurry the hell up so we can get all up and out of this room.

_**BRIIIIINNNGGG!**_

Yes!

"Now remember," called the teacher as students rose from their desks from the last bell ringing to end the day of the school. "During Summer Vacation, I want a 5 page essay about the Third Crusade!"

I could only shake my head as everyone in the class groaned in harmony, an essay about some stupid war that sounded like a religious debate of who's God was false and who's was real. I can't believe this has to be done over the summer but hey, three months is a long time and it gives me enough to screw around with my buddies and stay alone at home with mom and the boys are out. I gather all my bads and school work to join the rest of the herd, passing the teacher's desk and out the door where it felt like a mini-version of rush hour, and dammit why the hell was everyone do tall in this school? I felt like a middle-school brat next to these giants!

I found my lockers, I just cleaned it up after the announcement a few days ago from Principle Sawyer had said that all students should return the texts books and clean the lockers bare or else they would break in and dump whatever they found by the end of the month.

"Gabrielle!"

Cheryl McCrawford was a rich girl who I had luckily made friends with in Middle School, she was the new kid and being nice an' all, I offered to be guide and from then on we had stuck together. She and her family were so nice, her dad was some CEO in a big company that I never bothered to pay attention to and her mom was some researcher of said company, I guess the only reason why we hung out a lot was because she was an only child. She was also a very premiscuious girl, all the guys loved a blond beauty with bright green eyes, plump lips, and big boobs. Me? I was a shortie with lame dark brown hair that curled up naturally no matter how many times I tried to straighten it, and my eyes were the same, my body... let's not go there.

"So what are you gonna do this summer?" she asked as she popped right next to me, leaning on the locker with her arms folded and eyes ever so curious.

"Well, nothing basically, just relaxing." I replied, gathering some stuff in my backpack whilst talking to her.

"Wow, you're boring." she snorts, I rolled my eyes at the insult.

"Shut up," I mutter. "Where are you off to?

"Heading out for Europe." she sounded pretty damn proud of herself.

"Oh—Wow, Europe. That's awesome, lucky rich girl." I congradulate here, pausing from gathering any more of my belongings.

"Yeah, apparently my mom and dad had made some latest discovery and mom thought to bring me along to get a little history lesson, maybe encourage me to pursue a career in the company when I'm older."

"Well, have fun." I say, waving to her as I headed out. We always leave opposite directions.

"I'll send you a postcard!" she shouts, waving her hand before turning and leaving for home.

* * *

**Later**

A small bookstore that was local and old was the first best thing to find a suitable book for me to read and begin my 5 page essay, it was better to work on it first or else I'd forget and by the time I returned to school for my 12th grade year then it would give me a big fat capital "F" on my first day for Ms. Hedges for not even trying to work on the assignment. This bites!

**Stickles and Boomer**

The little book shop of horrors... heh heh. I enter and the familiar bell ringing over my head to alert Mr. Utivitch that I'm inside. Mr. Utivitch was an old man who dug his nose into the books, especially army novels since he was a Vietnam Veteran, a former Corporal serving in the Marines that shouted out until people's ears started to bleed. I saw a picture of himself when he was around 20-30 years, he was a looker, but now he was just some old thing collecting the dust but to me, he's a war hero that was not to be messed with.

"Hello lil' lady." he greeted, craning his skinny stretchy skin like some turtle, his thick framed glasses covering his pale blue eyes and his wrinkled face smiling politely.

"Hi Mr. Utivitch." I greet in return, looking around the crowded little book store. "Do you have any books on the Third Crusade, my teacher is demanded we do this or else our ass is grass."

Normally, people shouldn't be cursing around elderly people, but c'mon, this was a freaking Marine I was talking to! They cursed as bad as they sailors, and they wouldn't give a rats ass if someone just said "fuck you" in their face because to them it was "hi, nice weather we're having today". Makes a person wonder how a foul-mouth, trigger-happy, Cong-killin' son of a bitch is even doing in a quiet little book store that only had three customers a month, but hey, we all have our reasons.

"Hmmm..." he narrowed his eyes, licking his lips as he thought hard about my request. "I think there is this one that could help, just found it a few years back."

He wobbled around his desk, back hunched forward and his hand leaning against his cane as he walked to one of the tall book shelves, looking around for that certain book. I followed him closely, looking around to keep myself busy. I heard a "aha!" and I froze to look back, he reached his hand between two sets of large books for some old journal.

It was an leatherbound dark brown book, inside containing yellow pages that looked fragile that it seemed as though it would easily tear up and become ash if I handled it to roughly. There was no cover, only a shiny silver odd symbol of an "A", Mr. Utivitch handing the journal to me and I carely opened the strapped book to read the first page and read,

**"Hashshashin Creed"**

_**1191 A.D.**_

"Holy crap! It's THAT old?" I turn to the retreating Mr. Utivitch. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"Hmm..." he was back into thinking hard.

"Uh, never mind, forget I said that." I walked to the front desk. "So how much is this?"

"Keep it, it's free." he smiled crookedly.

"What? C'mon Mr. Utivitch, you need the money."

"No I don't, this place is closing down." he casually says, pulling up the book he was reading before I came along.

"They're closing Stickles and Boomer?" I was saddened by this. "No way..."

"It's alright, it's about time I settle down for once." he bumps his chest. "I'm getting old, ya know. Almost 83 years old, my body is gettin' tired. I've saved money to find me some retirin' home."

"... I'm gonna miss you Mr. Utivitch." I whispered, looking sadly at the old man.

"Mm." he smiled again. "And I to you, lil' lady."

I reluctantly pull away, slowly leaving the book store and as I finally step outside, I give one last sad look at Stickles and Boomer, I looked down at the book in my arms and clutched it tightly. This little guy would be my last connection to the small book shop, and I was going to keep safe.


	2. Percussion Gun

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:** I hope the new chapter was alright, don't want to set off some alarms**(otherwise the Templars will give chase)**, I almost starting writing "you" but I am holding back for you people. Don't like being flamed about that thing, I'm still sticking to some original ideas and I went over some reviews and I agree, I hate short chapters because they leave us alone and guessing. I'm doing my best to keep it longer and the best part is, I'm getting a bit creative now that I developed more of my brain **(Fear me for I am BRAIN but my side-kick Pinky is elsewhere (who would like to be my Pinky?)**. What sucks is that I STILL don't have the ever awesome Assassin's Creed II, Ezio is far away from my hands... **(cries in a corner)**. But that's what Youtube is for, duh!

Again, OC's are welcome** (but they're be in a cameo)**is could be some guard, Templar, Assassin, citizen, or whatever your mind can pick up, you can even request that they should say something that my character or the AC character's would respond to **(or at least react to something what the OC said)**. Enough of waisting your precious time, go ahead and read what you all have been desperately waiting for in the past year! I'll do my best to update good long ones for ya, my babies!

**Disclaimer**: I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

The ink on the yellow fading pages was still edible enough to read, it was amazing that it was translated in in English, otherwise it would have been more difficult. Three lines of sentences were written in the small ancient book, they may be words but reading it... it was a powerful thing.

_**Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.**_

_**Hide in plain sight.**_

_**Never compromise the Brotherhood.**_

I was back home, sitting on my pure white drawers/desk with the leather book resting, it's pages open for my eyes to read. My journal was open and ready to be used for whatever this book had withheld on what could be useful on my 5 page essay, and seeing as how thick this book was, it looked like my essay was gonna make an easy capital "A" grade! I chuckled to myself, thinking how awesome I am to luckily come across such a valuable finding, must be my lucky day.

It was dark already, when I had reached home, mom had made dinner early and my twin brothers; Cole and Drake, were just playing video games in their room. After dinner, mom demanded I take a shower since she bought me new shampoo products and I came out smelling like strawberry and kiwi, I never liked kiwi, too sourly. I was dressed in a gray spaghetti-strapped shirt and skinny thin black sweatpants that stretched some if pulled around, my brown sandals places near my feet **(I never did like walking around the house on bare feet)**. My hair was pulled up into a messy bun, some bangs sticking out, some tucked behind my ears.

"Okay, Gabe, think..." I closed my eyes, thinking how it should sound in my own words to start this Third Crusade project.

I turned up the radio, White Rabbits was on singing Percussion Gun, it was my dad's favorite song. Thinking about that song made me think of my old man. Michael had passed away when I was younger, there was something wrong with him and he developed some mental issues, made him into some schizophrenia maniac and when he couldn't handle it anymore the poor man took his own life, leaving me and my pregnant mother alone in the world to grieve but over time came to accept that he couldn't be saved. I never did learn what really happened but it had to do with some company I can't recall, I shake my head to banish these thoughts, had to figure out how to start this project.

I looked back down and stared hard at the open leather book, wondering how old it was and how it ended up in Mr. Utivitch's bony hands. The more I looked at it the more I came to come new conclusions, this should be something that belonged in some museum, and the writings, although English, were written like they were Arabic. I touched the front page, reading the three lines like they were some mantra, the pages were old but they felt strong enough to endure my touch.

"Gabby!" I hear my mother call from the otherside of the door. "Lights out!"

Well, maybe I can work on it tomorrow, because right now it's late and I can't think straight when it's this dark. I call back to confirm that I am heading for bed, closing the leather book and switching the light off that only left my lavender lava lamp on. I wasn't afraid of the dark or anything, just though they looked pretty cool in the darkness of my room. I pull the teal-colored covers of my bed and slip inside the blue and green sheets that hid underneath, wrapped around the warm as I stared at the book with wonder and slowly my eyes feeling heavy.

I felt my consciousness slip away, leaving me to float around in the darkness, the words of the book haunting me as I feel deeper and deeper into my sleeping domain, nothing to disturb me until waking morning.

* * *

I felt like I was resting on an open field so that my skin would absorb the sun's rays but it was slowly getting annoying and starting to burn me, I tried to turn away but my body felt as though it was being stabbed my multiple little pricks that pressed against my skin and my thin clothes. What was going on? Why do I feel so damn hot? And why is it so... so bright and giving off faint breezes of the wind? Did mom open the windows while I slept?

No, that wouldn't be like her... She wouldn't just come in and do that without waking me up.

It was getting scratchy and itchy on my skin that it was becoming a nuisance for me, I growled as I moved around but it only annoyed my further as more small pokings came to cheek, head, and the rest of my body that was lying on one side. Having enough, I sit up and groggily snap my eyes open only to end up staring at something for a few seconds, blinking to assure myself that whatever I was seeing was real. My teal-colored room was gone and I was in some battered up, roofless, shack and lying on a pile of hay.

Was I dreaming?

I was still wearing my night clothes, it was a good thing that they were thin because the heat of the sun was unbearable, nothing like the cool weather of my lovely Colorado state. I also found my sandals next to the hay stack of a bed I was lying on top... sitting right next to a familiar-looking leather-bound book that I had brought home with me from Stickles and Boomer. I hear the noise of human population beyond that ragged-covered door, shielding my view. I crawl from the hay and towards the door where I took a tiny peek before flapping it closed, my heart skipping a beat and racing like I had been running in the first place.

Holy crap, I was in enemy territory! Right in the heart of where those Terrorists could be **(sorry if it sounds offending, I really don't mean that)**. The population had Arabic/Islamic citizens crowding the huge streets, coming and going while sellers of the market places screamed to sell their "interesting" merchandise. I crawl away from the door and back to the hay bed, holding myself and praying to God that this wasn't some joke or some horrible nightmare and I was going to wake up with the sound of my mother shouting that it was time for dinner.

I didn't want to be taken hostage for those people to push me in a chair, put a bag over my head, and video tape me to send to the U.S. that another American citizen had been caught in the clutches of Terrorists and be some sort of example of what ruthless things they could do to me.

_'I have to get out of here! I don't know how the fuck I got here in the first place, but I ain't gonna stick around to have them find me!'_

I knew I had to find something to blend in to prevent myself from sticking out and getting caught to have the worse done to me. I really couldn't figure out how I ended up in the other side of the world when it had felt moments ago that I had just fallen asleep inside the safety of my own house **(no longer safe considering where you ended up now)**.

"Okay... where the hell am I gonna find a disguise?"

Looking around in the small shack, I spot nothing but piles of ragged, dirty cloths, but thinking about what the people outside were wearing since they were just nothing but robes topped off with more robes... My eyes landed on a maroon cloth, along with a faded blue robe. With quick thinking, I pulled the robes over me to form it into a dress, pulling some parts of the robes over my head to shield my face if I seemed to be too suspicious. The blue robe came over to tighten the maroon cloth so that I didn't seem to fat and I wasn't mistake as a guy.

I looked like I could blend in well enough to not be pointed out, now I had to find a way out of this place and somewhere, like probably find some soldiers to help me find a way home. I just hoped there was some nearby, I really couldn't take the heat if they were somewhere across the vast desert if they weren't here. Pulling on my sandals, I sighed nervously and prayed that I make it out alive to see my family again, you shoved the little book into your robes so it wouldn't be lost, and then you head out into the open crowds.

It was a miracle. No one noticed!

There was nothing but shouting from the stalls, merchants selling pots, fish, jewelry basically anything from what I've see in the movies of what sort of things people sold. My excited heart that was racing from the fear of being caught slowly calmed itself as time passed as I walked about the streets, looking left and right curiously.

The smell was sometimes foreign and familiar, woman dressed nicely carrying puts over their heads what must be filled with water from where they all gathered from a nearby well. The food looked odd but it made my stomach rumble by how good it smelled, men gathered around like those guys who get together to watch an important football game and laughing together.

Sure, this country and your country were at odds, but they had the same qualities. Everyone had friends, everyone had family, and everyone was just... human. I felt kind of ashamed of my assumptions about them, thinking everyone around here was evil when I could pretty much see children running and playing together.

_'Hey,'_ I thought to myself, smiling slightly._ 'This ain't so bad.'_

Still, I wasn't very welcomed in this place, I still had the problem to find the army soldiers that could help me find home. And if they weren't here... Oh God, I hoped they were or otherwise I wouldn't know what the hell to do without exposing myself. I was scared, I was horribly afraid of my fate.

Too busy fretting over my terrible ordeal with ugly images of things these people could do once they caught me, I failed to notice a small group coming towards me. Still walking down the streets with my thoughts plagued, my head knocked against something hard and I yelped, looking up to see an armored chest with a glaring red cross symbol bolded on the chest. I looked up to see a shielded bucket-head and whatever trouble I felt before suddenly came to a halt.

_'Why the fuck is there a guy running around in a suit of armor?'_ I asked myself, looking over him questionably.

"What a pretty little thing ye are." the bucket-head's voice pierced my thoughts, making me blink.

_'He... He's speaking in English! I'm safe!'_ but somehow, there was something wrong with this.

"Away with ya, Laurence!" laughed another bucket-head, this time wearing a white tunic over his armor but the same red cross on his chest. "You might scare the little lass!"

Three other men laughed behind me, and all my hopes slowly began to die down from the way these people acted and dressed around me. For some reason, I didn't really feel there was a problem of me being in this world anymore, rather I should be more scared of something else. My eyes slowly drifted to their hips when something kept looking a bit out of place from their strange wardrobes.

Swords were hanging there, it made you wonder who uses weapons like that these days besides real nerdy geeks who by them online or some trip to Japan. Where were their guns? Were these people too poor to afford proper firearms that they resorted to using old weapons from the dark ages? From the thought, your mind was slowly coming to a realization where you were...

Again brought back to reality **(if it could be called that)** from my deep thinking, my face was gripped harshly from a gloved hand and forced to face the first bucket-head facing me. Despite there being a slitted opening on his face, I could see his blue eyes... and they looked _hungry_. There was no help for me, I knew, these bastards were just a bunch of corrupt and greedy men! Not trusting myself to speak, I harshly pull away from his hand and glare heatedly at him.

"Ooh, feisty one, aren't you?" he laughed, stepping closer. "I like 'em when they have a lil' fight in 'em. Makes things the more exciting."

I tried to make a run for it, but they had circled me, pushing me back towards those groping hands, I would pull away but always end up getting pushed back. While being harassed, I was shocked to see that no one had not even bothered to help an innocent person, distressed with being toyed around by these horrible men. Even as they looked at me, they quickly turned away and kept their safe distance and so I was left alone to fend for myself. I was angry, scared, and frustrated. At one point, I had enough and smacked the bucket-head's hands away sharply when he started to grab at my hips.

"Stop it!" I shouted, having enough.

Suddenly, I was roughly grabbed by the shoulders, making me cry out from the tight and painful grip they had on me. Bucket-head didn't seemed too pleased on being slapped on the hand, made me wonder if his mother had done that to him so often that he began to hold a grudge against women who slap his hand. I tried to scratch his wrists but there were covered by the layers of clothes and I whimpered when that hold on me tightened more.

"You little whore," he hissed sharply to my face. "Who do you think you are to say that to a Templar Knight?"

I looked up at him with wide eyes at the mention, it was a name I heard from when my teacher had talked about the Third Crusade. How there was an army under a man by the name of Richard the Lionheart who sieges into the Holy Land with his soldiers called the Templar Knights. My fear of this place confirmed, I couldn't be dreaming because the pain was too real, dreams aren't suppose to hurt you.

_'I didn't... I didn't go back in time in my sleep... did I?'_ I swallowed thickly.

From the rough shaking, the cause of all my troubles suddenly slipped from my robes and fell flat on the dusty floor of the streets. One of the Templars took notice of the discarded item and picked it up, looking at it for a moment before dropping it suddenly like it would burn his hand off. He rapidly drew his sword and pointed it dangerously at me, still in the hands of the angry bucket-head.

"SHE'S AN ALLY OF THE ASSASSINS!"

_'What? What assassins?'_

I was dropped on the floor without warning, I looked up to see all of them drawing their swords and aimed their sharp weapons towards me, a harmless innocent girl in possession of a troublesome book with a strange symbol on its cover. The crowd noticed and began to run away, to avoid bloodshed and being drawn in of the mayhem happening. All five over-grown men with fearsome swords came towards me, ready to cut me down and I looked away, not bearing to look as they killed me painfully...

**_Thud!_**

"Huh?" I blinked, not feeling the pain of five swords plunging into your fallen form.

"Its... its..." I heard someone stutter.

"It's him!" shouted another.

"THE ASSASSIN!"

I turned back to the frightening scene and for a moment time stood still as I was left there on the floor, watching with wise honey eyes of the pure white cloth that fluttered with the blowing wind. A crossbow hanging of his back, some throwing knives, daggers, and a sword attached on his thick belt with a red strap tightening the hold of his robes. He wore a hood over his head, his back turned to me as he faced my attackers, confident in handling five Templar Knights.

Who was this man?


	3. The Bravery

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:** Finally! I bet you guys are all excited now that Altair had shown himself to Gabrielle. Anyway, last chapter I just wanted to make longer because a long time I go someone told me to make things longer by doing better on describing the surroundings rather than just say _"she walked around and suddenly someone grabbed her"_ kind of thing, it would be just too boring. Wanted the reader to feel like they are seeing what she is seeing **(in the mind of course**) and just play it out normally. I will probably need some beta person because I have no Microsoft Word program in my computer, just this stupid Notepad and that's it. It's pretty sad for me. And another thing, instead of it being guards of the city, I replaced them with Templar Knights because, well, those guys like to be bullies and I wanted to give Gabe a reason not to trust those guys so I had them instead pick on her before Altair comes in.

Anyway, I remember that the old story contained just Altair carrying her around just to get the trouble out of the way and be safe, well people, this is new and I did say there will be action inside it so... heh heh heh... I hope you will enjoy this. Please remember to read and review!

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

All I could really do was just stare up at this hooded being in immaculate white, standing protectively and shielding me from the wrath of those evil men. It was weird, I felt like some typical damsel in distress and this guy just falls from the sky and stands there to defend me from their swords. Either way, I was glad that someone actually came to help me rather than watch me get stabbed multiple times. The hooded stranger then turned towards me, probably to check out what he would be actually saving **(does it matter, you're saving a innocent life dude!)** before he could deal with these pesky men.

I really couldn't get a good look at his nicely tanned face, but I saw his nose that was straight and narrow, his jaws looking strong and covered in some stubbles, and his lips, a little chapped a scar running down in the corner of his mouth. A little voice in the back of my head screamed of what I put together,

He's incredibly handsome.

I blinked a couple times, no, I shouldn't be thinking things like that in a time like this! I should be scared shitless because I don't really know if this man in white is actually here to save or just happens to jump down from where ever he is from and happen to drop by in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had to take this as an opportunity to get the hell out of here and away from these crazy Templars!

Looking around, I see the leather book and quickly reach to grab it and tuck it safely **(and firmly)** into my robes. I jump at the cry of a man attacking the man in white, who easily grabbed the sword and give a new direction to the Templar towards the wall next to me and was out cold in an instant despite the protection of his helmet. Another aimed to attack and the man in white suddenly threw bunch in the midsection but kept it there for a while before I began to see blood pour from the knight's abdomen.

I wanted to scream, wanted to cry for help, but I couldn't get my voice to do anything. The hooded man pulled away sharply and let the body fall to the ground, a hidden dagger revealed in where his ring finger should be. I felt hot tears threaten to fall and I did nothing to stop them as I continued to look at the dead man who was crumpled not too far from me. I ignored the fighting, not wanting to see what other ways this man could kill.

Sure, these men assaulted me and tried to kill me, but I really couldn't be the one who decided that they had to die, that was from someone else, like God. I was brought back from my horrified daze when rough hands grabbed shoulders, forcing me to stand and I shivered at who I was in the mercy of now.

Up close, I could see his eyes underneath that hood. They were sharp, cold, and held the edge of an untamed creature that was not made to be told as it was, rather than just be unleashed to the direction of what he was to be attacking by the ones who got to him first. His eyes were like an eagle, observing and calculating, just waiting to swoop down and strike.

This was how an Assassin looked at someone, wasn't it?

His head turned sharply when distant bells began to ring across the large city I found myself surrounded in since waking up. I could only assume that more of those Templars would be coming to find him and probably me now that I'm involved and accused of being in league with the Assassins just because of this little book I carry. I was forced to follow the enigmatic man in white, running with him as others would soon give chase after me and him.

I really didn't know what was worse at this point, the Templars who I would catch a glimpse when turning various corners of the strange city or this man who kept dragging me around with weapons hanging off a him that screamed potential danger in the near future the second he found some time to deal with me. I wanted to swipe my hand away and run another direction, but I was too scared, too damn afraid to try it because of the fear of what he might do to me should I become a problem for him.

But it seemed I didn't have to worry about it that much when knights up ahead and blocked anymore passages, I looked behind us and sure enough there was some gathering around. We were trapped. I unconsciously huddled closer to the white-robed man, looking back and forth to keep an eye on who was daring to strike first or which side would come running at me and this stranger.

"You've been quite a hard person to find, Assassin." one knight said, looking very pleased of the surrounding. "But of course, you little rats would move about until one of your own is in danger."

I looked up at the hooded stranger, to see what he would respond to, but the man remained quiet and I went back to staring at the bucket-head.

"Do you have not anything to say before your filthy blood ruins my freshly cleaned sword?"

"Eek!"

No, that wasn't the hooded man, it was me. I was gripped on the shoulders and thrown over his one broad shoulder before he ran up a wall and fucking started climbing it up like some kind of Spider-Man! There was a lot of foot holes for him to stick his hand and feet into so it wasn't really much of a problem for him, just that he had to carry by body around like a sack of potatoes. The Templars were after us again, swinging their swords at us but failed miserably when the man climbed too high, others went ahead and found some ladders nearby and climbed up to join us on the roofs and give another chase.

I looked over to see how well he was fairing with considering I wasn't some little kid and he probably had a lot to carry on his back, he didn't look tired or worn out from carrying extra weight but those men behind us were slowly gaining on us. This was a hard desicion for me; be wrongfully killed by Templars or see what the white-robed man will lead me? I looked back to on knight and see him about seven feet behind us with his sword getting ready to slash my savior's back.

Pretty obvious what I chose.

"Hey!" I shout, tapping his back. "Put me down!"

He ignored me. Why didn't that surprise me at all?

"I'm slowing you down, put me back on my feet, I can run just as fast!"

I think I finally got to him, he skillfully pulled me off his shoulder until my feet could touch the ground and I was instantly running with him. But it was sort of too late at this point, there had been a large gap of buildings between that the man couldn't jump across. He pulled out hi sword and turned to our pursuers, ready to stab them to death, and I had that feeling again. I didn't want to see people dying around me. I looked around for another way to solve this conflict with the need to have people spewing blood and I settled on a bunch of barrels on a platform in the air that were tied together with a netted rope.

Without warning, I grabbed a dagger off the hooded man's belt, surprising his slightly and I quickly cut a single rope that helped keep the platform in the air with the barrels before it decided to tumble down. I was grabbed by the waist and pulled away in time to avoid being crushed and the Templars tried to get out of the way but the barrels rolling towards there were too fast.

"Alright!" I cheered, happy for being so damn witty.

The victory was short-lived when an arrow struck down near my leg, I yelped and looked back to see archers from far-off rooftops shooting arrows directly at me and the hooded man. I was again grabbed by the wrist and pulled another direction, avoiding being hit by the flying sharp weapons. My legs were becoming so exhausted but I ignored it, couldn't stop until I was safe from harm. I noticed I still had his large dagger still in my hand and wondered if he wanted it back, but he seemed to busy running with me to give a hoot about his weapon, and besides, I probably shouldn't give it back since he might not be some good guy and I did need a weapon to defend myself.

"Ack!" I was roughly pushed to the side and landed in a pile of hay.

I poked my head out and about to demand what the hell was THAT for but I was speechless, the guy kept running... without me! Son of a bitch left me behind! Before I could even think about making a run for it, the sounds of footsteps stopped me and I dived back into the pile of hey to avoid being anymore involved of this chase. Maybe this was suppose to help me, I thought to myself, maybe he left me behind in here so that I would be safe.

The knights passed by, oblivious to my hiding spot that I stayed inside of. But my hope shattered when one knight had slowly came to a stop, his slitted eyes on his bucket-head looking into my hidden spot. I gulped, prayed that he instead shook his head and rejoin his buddies but he went ahead and stopped. For a moment, he looked at the pile of hay and started to inch closer, his hand on his sword. I still had the dagger in my hand and I was shaking, prayed that the man just left and that I didn't have to force myself to do this.

I've never stabbed someone, not even to save myself. But this was like fucking survival of the strongest, if I didn't do what had to be done, I'll be killed before I could think about a way to find home. Thinking about home made me think about my mother, and my twin brothers. The Templar crept closer, raising his sword out of the sheath and ready to inspect the innocent looking pile of hay with his sword.

_'I'm sorry,' _I prayed one last time.

I struck in time before he could stab the hay, the dagger plunged deep into his foot and he cried out bloody murder, he had to be silenced or otherwise more trouble would find me. Pulling out the dagger, I gave one last look around and saw the edge of a roof. Without much thought, I let out a roar and charged, slammed hard into the metal plated chest on the Templar, forcing him back with all my might and pushed us both over the edge of the roof. I felt my stomach and other inner organs defy gravity inside me and me and the knight fell down in a hurry, I closed my eyes and clutched hard before coming to an abrupt stop, the knight cushioning my fall.

People screamed around us, startled and shocked. I didn't let go, too scared to do anything but stay still. My heart was racing from so much excitement, so much of a big scare I got myself into. I didn't know who found me first, just that I was grabbed by the wrists and pulled off the armored chest and forced to meet to keep going. I was disoriented, distantly confused and dazed. I think the person noticed me being distressed because I was pulled closer to them and led to some narrow spaces.

The bells were stilling ringing, I could hear those bells ringing from the distance. I found that we came to a stop and I was carried to climb up some ladder and then down through a hidden hole in the rooftop. Finally, I was placed gently down on a pile of pillows, my head swimming from what I had just down to that man when he tried to search the pile of hay. I couldn't help the tears fall now, I was scared, terrified. My mom wasn't here to comfort me and tell me that I would be alright, my brothers weren't there to annoy me and call me annoying nicknames, and my father... oh God, dad...!

And I don't remember my tears being wiped away before I fell to a state of unconciousness.


	4. The Angel, The Eagle, and The King

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:** I. NEED. A. BETA~! Seriously, I really need somebody is more better in this sort of crap than I am. I mean, sure, I'm okay, but I friggin' have NOTEPAD! This definitely sucks. Next time, in my 19th birthday, I should demand from my dad or my older half-brother **(who is the badass of computers, digital cameras, and games) **to get me a Microsoft Word program, but one that's like 2008 old, somebody told me that there were some MW's that didn't turn out to be as good. So until I'm blessed with the miracle of having a better writing program, I'm stuck at sucking with this crappy writing (although, some of you say that it ain't that much of a problem from the amount of reviews I receive which I am pleased about). Okay, I've kept you all waiting, please remember to read and review!

**Disclaimer: **I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

"Fool!" a voice shouts, the accent thick with Arabian. "You've caused more trouble than you already have! What's more, you bring in an innocent child into this mess!"

I slowly opened my eyes, all I see was different shades of red and purple pillows surrounding me. No teal-colored room covered with posters of my favorite bands, and no sound of my mother's voice besides the hushed arguing I can constantly hear not too far from where I was lying. I wasn't dreaming, I was still in this place. I slowly sit up, looking down at myself to see that I'm wearing the same clothes I pulled myself on when I had first awoken in this heated town.

I could see little droplets of blood on my robes, reminding me what I had done to survive another day. And then there was that man in the white robe, who took me away from being harmed by those Templar knights and now I'm... Where am I exactly?

"What would the old man think of this now?" the voice from another room continued on. "Enough damage had been brought upon us and now this! I was right! Al Mualim should have your head for your actions!"

"She had THIS with her." another interrupted, very baritone and angry at the shouting.

"A book?" a pause. "Wait... This is—"

"Yes."

"Why in the world would she—"

"That, I do not know. I was hoping she would explain once she awakens."

"Alright, fine!" the voice Arabic-accent growls, not at all sounding friendly. "But once this is over, I want you OUT. I've dealt enough trouble with you and your insolence."

"Thank you, Malik."

"Don't thank me. I'm only agreeing because of this girl."

My eyes went to the open door when I saw movement, and once more my eyes locked on sharp golden eagle eyes that stared right back at me. The white-robed man stayed where he was, back straight and hands folded in fists, like he was expecting me to jump around and bounce along the walls. I stayed where I was, my legs felt weak from the running and even if I tried to get away, there was no indication of escape except on the little opening on the roof, which I doubt I could reach without being pulled back down on the ground.

"What are you waiting for, Altair?" the same voice Malik, I assumed said behind the tense Assassin. "Don't just stand there like some sort of idiotic statue, leave!"

"She's awake." he announced, I was surprised that this was his voice, never having heard it before.

The white-robed man presumably named Altair, was roughly pushed aside and there stood another man, his attire the same with the Assassin but a dark robe covering most of it. His skin darker and hair just as black, but what got to me the most was his left arm... it was missing. I really didn't know what to say, just sit there quietly and watch what would happen next. I just prayed there was nothing exciting about to happen, I already had enough of that from last time on the streets.

"So she is," Malik looks me over suspiciously but doesn't assume I'm any sort of threat. "I'll ask the questions, you just keep away or else you'll make matters worse."

"Do as you please, just get her to answer what we need to know."

Malik calmly sauntered over, keeping a fair distance as to probably not startle me any more further than already was, but I was calm and relaxed. For now at least. He sat across from me, legs crossed and his eyes trained on me and despite those dark eyes having been full of malice towards the Altair character, they were soft when trained on me. Up close, he was very handsome as well as the other man leaning against the wall at the door frame, but I forced my face to stay calm from the fact that there are two gorgeous men in the same room as me. This whole thing was making me calm, probably it was the incense I kept smelling somewhere in this place.

"May I ask, child, what your name is?" Malik spoke up.

"... Gabrielle." I muttered lowly.

"Strange, I never heard of a daughter be blessed with such a masculine name."

"It's not, really..." I trailed off, looking away.

"Can you tell us why," Malik reached into his robes, pulling out a familiar book. "Such a book come to be in your possession?"

I stared at the book that was held out, like Malik was expecting me to take it. But I couldn't, this thing was the reason I was HERE in the first place. I was just a 17-year-old kid lost in time when the world was a bit young a just getting into the age of civilization slowly spreading. I wonder if Christopher Columbus was around so that he could probably take me to American civilization... but then again, it was mostly likely to be overrun by Indians or Aztec people.

"It was a gift." I answered, no lie.

"Now that I come to think of it," Malik turned to Altair. "I do remember some of the men from years ago defecting from Masyaf and running off who know's where. This might be one of their children."

"Who is your father, girl?" Altair asked me, for the first time.

"Michael." I replied, looking down at my lap.

Due to my quiet voice, they really couldn't catch it on how I pronounced my father's name but t did however make both men jolt up. I look up again, surprised that both their faces held a bewildered look, Altair's face was partially hooded but I can see his expression looking utterly surprised.

"Your father... is Mikhail?" Malik asked, eyes wide as saucers and mouth gawking. "Your his daughter?"

"Yes, but your saying my father's name wr—" I was interrupted from correcting Malik of my father's name.

"Is he alive?" Altair was now coming closer, the light from behind him giving him an intimidating look. "Is Mikhail alive and well?"

"My father," I sank my eyes down, my eye's mind flashing with the image of a smiling man in the distance. "He... He died a long time ago."

There was silence. This was a total misunderstanding, my father was not this Mikhail person, he was Michael. And besides, there was something nagging at the back of my head, like it was telling me that I should go ahead and ask this stupid question. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to know, but I could only try and play along and pretend if I wanted to live long enough and be in some safe haven away from greedy Templar jerks.

"How do you know of my father?" I asked them.

Malik looked like he was about to answer but Altair beat him to the punch. "He was an Assassin in our Brotherhood. The finest, and he was very notorious amongst the Templars."

"Ah yes, it was an honor to be taught under him. He was a great Master Assassin beside Al Mualim." Malik added, his eyes looking back at the "glory days".

While both looked very pleased about my "father's" work from back then... I was horrified. Michael was a mechanic who fixed cars and sometimes would fix things around the house when it broke down. He was always good at was he did, and he always taught young newbies about which tools goes to where it needed to be when it came to fixing their first car. My father was not some heartless killer who instilled fear in the hearts of his intended victims.

"My father isn't a murderer!" I shout, glaring at the two men, and I felt strength climb back into my legs because I was standing up on my own two feet. "He's not some Assassin! You lie!"

"Calm down now..." Malik stood up, trying to ease me but I wouldn't have any of this bull shit!

"This is not a lie, you're father was part of a Brotherhood who killed the corrupted." the white-robed man kept pushing on, ignoring Malik's glare when the man was TRYING to calm things down, not make matters worse.

"No! You're wrong! I know my father! He's too kind and wouldn't DREAM of hurting a person, much less kill them!" I denied, fighting back tears.

"Then you don't know the kind of man your father was than we do."

**_SLAP!_**

I stood there, wide-eyed and panting harshly. My hand was in the air, stinging slightly from the harsh press of skin against skin, my honey eyes trained on the face of this infuriating person in front of me. There was a red mark slowly coming to spread on Altair's cheek, and if this hurt him then he was not showing it, because he took it and his face remained blank like it didn't do anything at all. Malik just stood there, probably surprised that someone just slapped his fellow Assassin. I finally pulled away, my hand coming to drop back to my side and my breathe caught back but my heart was racing fast and heart, Altair continued to stand still and his face straight, not reacting at all.

"I've had enough of this crap," I said with a low tone, glaring at them. "I'm leaving. I don't care what happens, but if it means getting away from you two, then that's enough for me."

I turned to leave, probably find a door in another room but I was grabbed sharply on the wrist and pulled to have my back slam against a chest. I struggled, cried out a little, and kicked my legs around.

"What are you doing?" Malik demanded, obviously he was not the one hold me against my will.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, furious at this point.

"I will take her back to Masyaf, she is not safe here in the Bureau. Besides, Jerusalem probably will recognize her if she walks about in the streets on her own again."

"All thanks to you."

"Like I said," he grabs me again since I started to slip from him. "She is not safe here."

"I'm not safe with you either, jackass!" I scream, pounding a fist against his chest.

"I can already see she's her father's daughter," Malik notes. "She curses like Mikhail."

Okay, that was kind of true. Mom always told me that died cursed like a sailor, and I guess when he accidentally cursed out loud in front of me, I began to do the same. It got me into a lot of trouble when I was in Kindergarten, having been sent to the Principle's office three times and multiple times placed in the corner while everyone played when it was play time.

I gasped when I was once again tossed over Altair's shoulder, and I did not hesitate to pound my two fists repeatedly over his back non-stop. I kicked my legs, shouting and yelling at him to put me back down and let me the fuck go so I can be on my way. He pretty much tuned me out and endured the back-hitting, folding an arm over the back of my knees to make kick around less.

I'm really hated this guy!

"YOU SUCK!" I screamed again.


	5. Mikhail

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:**Okay, so far two or three offered to be my beta's but had problems that they could not become one for my story editing and correcting of grammar errors. Oh well, it was very sweet and kind of them to offer so I can only send my thanks to them for even stepping up and trying. **(Looks dramatically to the Heavens)** Oh Holy people who live from above, will you not give me a digital miracle to bestow on this lowly story to be recognized of it's sinful errors? I can only pray **(digitally)**that something happens for the greater future of this story that has come to be most favored **(I'm not saying that. seriously, I get messages in my inbox at my e-mail how a bunch of readers are picking this story on their story alert or favorites, I even got a few who added me as their favorite author)**.

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

I stared up at the beast with fear, my eyes wide with terror, my throat choking from any noise that wanted to escape through my stuttering mouth, and my body frozen, petrified. I couldn't blink, fearful that it might catch me off guard and surprise me, but I knew from the way it stared at me into my eyes... it knew I was deathly afraid of it. It knew and it looked ready to use my fear against me.

"What are you standing there for? Get on."

I backed away, shaking my head in refusal to be even near this... this thing! The two other men, Altair and Malik, were waiting rather impatiently from my stalling, especially Altair. The man was probably one for not much patience for girls like me, but I couldn't help it! I've heard that this creature could cause many accidents, and sometimes very fatal, so I refused to be near a beast that could do such a thing with me being a victim!

"No way in Heaven or Hell," I pointed at the monster. "Am I getting on it!"

The horse innocently went back to digging up some more hay to feed on.

"Don't waste anymore time than needed be, girl." Altair seethed, just getting angry by the seconds passing.

"Gabrielle." I growled back, glaring with much anger as the man was throwing at me with his eyes.

We had wait another day since Altair had come back from an assassination**(he picked me up on the way back to Malik's Bureau)** and let the city calm down enough so it wouldn't arouse suspicion. The morning was actually pretty interesting **(I had just dreamt of Sonic and Shadow the Hedgehog and when I awoke suddenly, I found Altair bleeding by the nose near where I had spent the night in)**and Malik invited himself to join on the way back to this Masyaf place so that Altair wouldn't end up killing me **(that freaked me out)**.

Some people that Altair had helped every now and then from the streets made it so the guards were out of the way long enough for Altair, Malik, and myself to leave outside the walls of the city and into the open where we would begin a long journey to their home, and apparently the home of my "father". I still refused to see that my father is a cold-blooded killer and the white-robed dick was eager to prove me wrong. And now, we are in this predicament.

"What are you so afraid of?" Malik shook his head. "It's just a horse."

"A horse that could make me fall and break my neck!" I argued back, jumping slightly when it shot it's head up and neighed loudly, as if arguing against me of my accusing.

"That's highly unlikely."

"But it IS possible!"

"Get on the damn horse or I will make you!" Altair finally stepped forward, pulling out a piece of robe from behind him.

"Hey! Hey! Get away from me!" I backed away, panicking.

I turned to run but I was caught again **(damn tall people)** and dragged back to the nearby stable, my hands were tied from behind me despite my struggling. A little too tightly, probably to get back at me from hitting my head against his nose too harshly. Altair was first to saddle on his horse and then hoist me up with him, settling me down in front of him and I started freaking out.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh my God!" I chanted. "Don't drop me! Don't drop me!"

"Silence!" I heard him hiss. "You'll draw attention to yourself!"

"You already drawn attention with tying her up, idiot." Malik argued, looking at me with concern as he followed Altair on his own horse.

"Please, please whatever you do," I caught Altair's attention, my eyes begging mercy at this point. "Don't make it run! I beg of you, for the love of God, don't make it run!"

He looked at me for a long time before—

"HYA!"

The horse started running now, and I let out a chilling scream of terror.

"AAAIIIIIEEE~!"

* * *

**Later**

Malik glanced to his side, a small smirk reaching to the corner of his lips at his companion sitting beside him.

Altair poked at his left ear, the place where he could mostly take in the deafening screams of the girl in his arms when riding through the rocky terrain. They had barely avoided another attempt of attack, the guards having been attracted to her screaming and shouting. Poor girl, she was in a state of trauma, they don't know what her story is but they figured they find some nearby cart to tag along their horses and drag them back to Masyaf. Malik wasn't up to being screamed in non-stop in his poor ears.

Here they were, camping far off from a local village and keeping their distance for unwanted attention. Gathering wood and making fire, all three sat in a circle but Gabrielle chose to keep her distance from both men since she was still mis-trusting and unforgiving for what they had put her through. She still denied the truth about her father Mikhail, the way she described the man was just the same, just the occupation was a big bold difference.

And there was a challenge in the air, Malik could sense, between both Altair and the young Gabrielle.

They both had their own tales about Mikhail, they both had different opinions of a once great man who had made the world in their lives meaningful. Altair and Malik believed that Mikhail was a great Assassin and a hero to his people in Masyaf, and Gabrielle believed that he was a great loving father to her and was a kind man who liked to fix things for others in a reasoning price for customers.

Golden eyes glared into seething honey brown eyes.

The Dai rolled his eyes at the two, but his eyes softened to the girl. No doubt, there was many things about this girl that both mystified and intrigued him all the same, no doubt Altair felt the same about her as well. She had that aura about her that matched her father's, she cursed like the great man, and she even had the courage to look at Masyaf's ruthless Assassin with death glare of her own. But her beauty was most likely from this unknown mother that the former Assassin had taken to be his lover and wife.

Where was Gabrielle's mother anyway?

"Could you stop staring at me?" Gabrielle growled, still locking eyes with the silent Assassin. "It's annoying me."

"I do as I please, girl." Altair was eager to shoot back. The idiot was just looking for any kind of fight, even against a little girl!

"Gabrielle." thankfully this girl had back-bone unlike most who would immediately hold their tongue normally in the presence of bigger man.

"Ah, Gabrielle," Malik interrupted before Altair could lash out again. "How did you come to the city of Jerusalem, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"Oh," she looked up at the sky for a moment, pondering. "I have no idea."

"You lie."

"And you butt out! No one asked your stupid opinions!"

"Why you...!"

"Enough you fool! She didn't ask you to begin with!"

"You best learn to hold your tongue girl, or else others will not be so kind as me or my companion." Altair warned her, folding his arms across his chest.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, ignoring the flash of anger on the hooded man's face, her eyes turned to Malik. "How did you come to know of my father anyway? You know, when did you first meet?"

"Oh, it was very long ago. Long before you were born." Malik said, eyes trailing to the sky to see how many stars were out. "I was a Novice, this idiot here as well."

"I have a name, Malik."

"And so do she, Altair."

Gabrielle seemed to perk up at Malik's defense against the Assassin, making the hooded man scowl darkly for being so betrayed easily by the whim of this wretched girl...

"We were children, just barely entering the Brotherhood. Our masters had taken us outside Masyaf to teach us how to properly ride the horses and learn to escape in case for any enemies daring to attack our home..."

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_**1173**_

_Little Malik steered his horse carefully near to the side and away from the edge of the cliff. Curse himself, he was afraid of heights and it was only a year or so away that he would perform a Leap of Faith to truly initiate himself as a member of the Brotherhood. Altair was ahead of him, not caring that he seemed to be getting closer to the edge..._

_"Altair!" Abdul-Alim shouted from behind both boys. "Stay away from the edge, you little pest!"_

_"Yes master," Altair nods, his voice small yet firm for his age. He steered his steed away from the edge, much to Malik's relief **(though he won't admit he was worried)**._

_Fahad rode next to Abdul-Alim, always alert for anything that would be unsuspected in the middle of training the little ones. It was bad times these days, there had been an attack a few months ago, one poor child killed in the middle of his lessons when barbaric bandits and invaded and the teacher had not been strong enough to protect the little one and help arrived too late to save the boy. Since then, two or three Assassins always paired together, one to look out for trouble, and the other teaching his knowledge to the new generation._

_Another problem was that these damn fools would cut off supplies to their village, Al Mualim had sent some of his best to track down them vile dogs and put an end to this for it was beginning to hurt his people from the slow lack of food coming in. Theses bandits always kept moving one place to another, they were fools but they were smart enough not to leave traces, although Al Mualim trusted his selected Assassin's wisely to finally put an end to their troubles and be once more safe in their comforting homes._

_"Don't let the horse control the way, Malik." Fuhad called after searching and finding nothing._

_"Yes master," Malik meekly said, getting the reign on a better grip so that this foolish beast did not get the best of him. HE was the master here!_

_An arrow suddenly struck just above their heads._

_All heads whipped up to the arrow before darting to the other cliff only a short mile away, it was the people who had attacked and been harassing Masyaf since the first incident with the teacher and his student._

_"Run! NOW!" Fahad shouted._

_Altair and Malik shared a quick startled look to each other before kicking their horses to hasten their pace to lead them away from harm and back home. Many arrows were flying towards them, Malik shrank in his seat as he prayed that he would get out alive to at least see his younger baby brother that had just been recently born. But things took much more turn of a worse when an arrow had struck the horse's hip, making it jolt in pain and stand on its hind legs with Malik trying to grab control but succeeding none as he found his tiny body slipping away from the saddle. As he fell, he did not feel any jabs of rocks stopping his fall, not sand to start flying around where he landed, just kept falling..._

_Off the edge of the cliff._

_His small hands reached out and in an instant, he grabbed a piece of branch from a little tree that grew from the side of the rocky mountain. He could still hear the invasion of tiny wisps in the wind, but he refused to open his eyes for fear. Images of his mother, his father, and his baby brother coming to his mind's eye, he wanted to live and not be dead like that other boy._

_"MALIK!" he heard someone shout above him._

_Altair had jumped off his horse and crawled to the edge, ignoring the two shouting masters, he feebly reached his short arm to reach the trembling boy who held tightly onto the branch but could not reach him. He shouted his friend's name but there was no response. An arrow struck again, but near Altair's arm and with a startling jump, he accidentally slipped off the edge of the cliff and hastily grabbed for a branch, now joining Malik's predicament._

_"Malik! Altair!" Fuhad shouted from eight feet above them, slouched low like Altair had been._

_"Damn!" Abdul-Alim cried out in panic for his students and the situation._

_A reasonable person should have ran back and called for help, but both men refused to leave the two little children to deal with these heartless creatures called men. It wouldn't be long before either them or the arrows would strike the boys down to have them plummet to their deaths, no, Abdul-Alim refused to let these children die. Where are those hand-picked Assassins that Al Mualim himself chosen when you needed them?_

_As if answering a prayer, an arrow, from their side, had rapidly flew to where the bandits were and when it struck, it exploded with a loud BOOM._

_Malik and Altair jumped from the noise, eyes looking back to where a flash of fire was a little far off but enough to scar the intended targets that had paused in shooting their endless supplies of arrows. From above, Altair could not hear his masters, they had gotten quiet from the surprise attack against the bandits. Seeing some small movement, Altair looked to his right from where he was hanging and his eyes widen at what he was witnessing._

_A white-robed man, flying gracefully with a bow and four arrows hanging on his back._

_Like an Angel..._

_Fuhad and Adul-Alim had turned their heads to see one of their own brothers, one they were very familiar with from having been told from their other brothers that had been honored to have accompanied him on his missions of assassinations. And from below, both boys could hear them whisper the name;_

_"Mikhail."_

_Straightening himself when he began to near the cliff walls, Mikhail ran across the rocky edge with the ropes supporting him that led to above where two other Assassins on horseback were holding on tightly and running across the edge to give the man a good shot at his targets, his arrows carrying oil sacks to send to the dastardly bandits and have them blown away. Altair and Malik watched in awe of a true Assassin they could only hope to be one day make this seem like a breeze in their dangerous work._

_Mikhail shot his first arrow, on impact of having landed in the edge where the bandits resided it, it exploded and some bandits had unfortunately took a large drop off the cliff to plummet down to their own deaths like they had tried to with the the two youngsters. Another arrow strike and explosion, it was to destroy any weapons they planned on throwing back, the third arrow and explosion was to ensure that it got every man, and the fourth arrow and explosion... to make sure nothing got out alive to harm anyone else again._

_The Assassin kept running, his eyes trained on Malik and Altair and whistling loudly so that he was lifted a little higher and opened his arms as he began to come closer to the boys. Little Malik instantly clutched the man tightly and Altair hung on, his eyes trained on the man's concentrated face before another whistle came and they were lifted higher until they reached the edge of the cliff and not the narrow trail where Fahad and Abdul-Alim had been._

_Their masters were waiting above with the other two Assassins, helping Mikhail to his feet by taking the two children from his arms to settle them down on their own feet._

_"Job well done, Mikhail." Abbas greeted with a friendly smile._

_"Most fortunate." Sahir, another companion of Mikhail agreed._

_"Ah, those little fucking bastards had it coming!" Mikhail laughed, not caring that he swore in the presence of children._

_"Please, not around the children!"_

_"What?" Mikhail gave the two boys a once over. "They're are going to have heard it either way in life? What is the problem now?"_

_"Mikhail..."_

_"Go kiss a donkey's ass, no one asked you!" the Assassin argued, folding his arms across his chest._

_"Were it not for the fact you happen to be Al Mualim's favorite, someone would have cut your sharp tongue a long time ago." Abbas shook his head._

_"Oh, maybe because the old man is, I don't know, lonely?"_

_"MIKHAIL!"_

_Meanwhile, Malik watched curiously between the interaction of a legendary Assassin that he had heard stories from his father or uncle, how humble and foul-mouthed the man was. And despite his odd ways, he was kind and friendly to others, quickly being a true heroic figure in the eyes of many, including even elder Assassins. There were whispers of how one day that this man would probably make a change to Masyaf, even maybe become the new leader of the Assassin's Order should Al Mualim allow it. Not having heard much from the other boy, Malik looked to the side to ask what was wrong but stopped himself._

_Altair was staring at Mikhail, not with curiosity, not even caring that the man cursed at all in front of them** (he was right, they would indeed have heard curses sometime later in life)**, just looking at him with this expression that Malik only knew that Altair once given when he and Al Mualim had first met, but it was stronger this time. Much stronger than the first time._

_The eyes of a boy worshipping a hero._

* * *

Gabrielle picked at the fire while Altair had long had left to gather some more wood, Malik took a swig of the waterskin and offered some to her but she kindly refused. This story above her father saving their lives... she really didn't know what to say, she couldn't call them liars at this point. They were alive because of a man who saved them when they were young children, she was also shocked that the Assassins trained children who shouldn't even be allowed to be away from their mothers for so long.

Malik had total admiration in his eyes, Altair had just been silent and his hood further covering his face from her seeing what kind of look he was holding upon this whole situation. But this person... he sounded very amazing like a person from a fairy-tale doing good to his home and his citizens. But something else had been bothering her, something that had made the whole situation blank.

"He sounds amazing." Gabrielle whispered, her eyes on Altair.

"Yes." Malik nodded.

"So why did he leave Masyaf?"

Malik sighed, looking into the flames and ignoring the tension that came from Altair beside him. This part of the conversation was always off limits for everyone, even to some of the others of the Brotherhood like Abbas. Mikhail had made many friends, was loved by most that had come close enough to his heart. So when word had reach of his desertion...

"No one knows really." Malik shrugged. "Only that he had seen the Master one night and just up and left during a mission."

"I thought he left like those other guys you had talked about."

"No," Altair growled, hands coiled in fists. "He abandoned his brothers and left."

Malik and Gabrielle were once again left alone as Altair disappeared into the dark, she gave Malik a questioning look to the whole brooding attitude Altair had developed all so suddenly.

"Mikhail, he was a person that leaves lasting impressions on many," Malik glanced over his shoulder as if to see if Altair was listening. "Altair... he looked up to your father very much. Worked hard to be where Mikhail stood as a great man."

"So when my father left..." she trailed off, thinking about how Altair reacted in the Bureau when she had mentioned her father's name.

"He just grew up cold, grew up arrogant and over-confident to prove himself better than Mikhail. But somehow, I believe that he still loves your father all the same."

Elsewhere, Altair leaned his back against the wall as he let his legs rest in the air, his eyes staring at the moon that looked over the mountains. Two guards knocked-out from having to try alert the others, he was not in the mood to start attention to himself, he wouldn't hear the end of it with Malik. Ever since that girl had show up, she had been nothing but trouble for him, and as much as he would have liked to leave her behind in the streets to rot, she held something like Mikhail had.

_"So," the hooded man smiled as he crouched low enough to stare between the two boys he had just saved. "What names do I carve into my head, young Assassins?"_

_"M-Malik," the little one stutters, amazed of being addressed as a fellow Assassin by him._

_"Altair," the other boy slowly says, still looking at Mikhail in awe._

_Mikhail let out a laugh, soothing and playful. "We shall see if you both can live up to being an Assassin, no?"_


	6. Dream under the Sky

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:**Such nice reviewers I have, I also have luck on finding a kind beta person for this story. Please give a hand of applause to, _**AmandaMiau**_. Thank you **_AmandaMaiu_**, you are very generous person. I also got a review from this lady who's husband was a Green Beret, she's talking about the old Marine from the first chapter, Mr. Utivitch. And another reviewer talking how Gabrielle is unique in her own way, actually, lot of people are pleased that Gabrielle is actually a good character who's nothing like those bitches called Mary-Sue's!

I bet you guys are wondering what Mikhail's true relation with Gabrielle is, huh? One reviewer has an open eye and I congratulate her **(claps hands)**. I really wanted something to be more of the world into the Assassin's Creed, years prior to the game's beginning. I don't mean to sound like a jerk but I don't **(sometimes)** really like stories how a girl just falls into the world of her game and becomes some lost puppy and just instantly relies on Altair to help, or if she even opens her cake hole and starts spewing to the Assassin that he's just a "pawn" of a "game" she controls, I bet that would make Altair very upset and resort to violence. I wouldn't blame him for that.

So yes, this IS new. I want something of this to be fresh and unusual to most who are first reading this, make it exciting and realistic, so I'm sorry but she's not got gonna be the type to follow Altair on his missions to kill his targets but I guarantee you people, Altair will be around enough to get something with Gabrielle, but it makes me wonder if Malik should get into the mix as well, be a motivation for Altair to move a bit quicker? Who knows, anyway, quick question to anyone who's listening or bothering to read this dumb author's note; does anybody know A LOT about Arab **(thank you _SuddenSummerStorm_)** or Islam tradition? Anyway, remember to read and review, love you all and I hope you all had a good holiday with family and friends!

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

_Tiny feet padded down a silent and long hallway, following the source of the strange noise that had begun to grow more and more each year. It kept coming back again and again, non-stop. And most of the time it was scary, like from some dark movie that you're not allowed to watch until you were older scary. But it just was hard to ignore, you just had to get closer and see what was happening or otherwise this was going to haunt you._

_Small hands found the smooth surface of a white wooden door, pushing it to force it open to reveal what was hidden inside the room and making such strange noises._

_A man._

_A man was hunched over from his bedside, holding his head and letting out loud whines that reminded you of a dog that was begging for comfort or pleading for it's life. It was horrible and made your body tremble, the fear of hearing a man begging for his life for a pain that could not be seen but only felt from an invisible force. And there was nothing you could do for that man that huddled in pain, you could only watch him with wide teary eyes that took all into memory._

_And then you are moving, closer to the shaking man._

_"... daddy?"_

_He doesn't hear you._

_"Daddy?" you call him, louder._

_He still doesn't respond, just sits on the bed while hugging himself like he's alone in a dark place with no one with him for assurance that he was not completely by himself. Tears were falling from your wide terrified eyes, your hesitance long gone from you that you run to him, tiny hands clutching his shirt and thick arms. You had to snap him out of the dark, make him stop hurting, make him see that he's a daddy that had to listen to his baby girl._

_But no love came when he moved._

_Just violence._

_The floor was hard and cold, the back of your head hurt from the force of being thrown hard, a new kind of fear creeping inside when those eyes once kind and gentle wore the face of death and madness. His hands that were of love and warmth were icey and hatred as they grabbed your neck and shook you violently like trying to shake something bad off of you. There was no laughter or play in his voice, just fear and desperation._

_Daddy was attacking you._

_And he kept shaking you, and you began to feel the hurt._

_"Stop it!" you cry out to him. "Stop it, daddy!"_

_But he didn't listen. He wanted to kill you. He wanted to—_

* * *

I let out a gasp as I shot up, eyes wide and mouth dry. It was that one dream again that I had some nightmares a few times but not often. Dad had attacked me when he was in that... state. Mom had walked in and immediately she flew and started slapping and scratching, screaming for dad to let go or else he was going to kill me, his own child. He finally came out of his delusions and was quick to apologize, but I had ran into my mother's arms and cried, wanted to leave behind this man that was not my father but a monster.

Then there was a small disappearance stunt he pulled off, worrying mom when she had called for friends and family to ask where dad had gone and sadly they had no answers. I had thought it was my own fault, for saying such awful things and making my dad run away from home, away from me. It was thankfully two days later that a friend of dad found him, somewhere near the junkyard dumps where he was staying in, just hiding away like some homeless man. The moment I saw him walking closer to the house, I ran outside and jumped at him, crying and repeatedly saying I was sorry... I was sorry.

A year later, he killed himself.

"Are you going to let go?"

I blinked out of my stupor and realized that I was clutching onto the robes of the one who had awoken me; Altair. With an aggravted sigh, I released him and pulled away from the close proximity, cleaning off the straws and grass that stuck to my clothes and hair. Ugh, I really needed a bath, the second I got to this Masyaf place, I was gonna dive into a warm bath and wash myself immaculate. Again, I realized that Altair was still sitting close by to me, most of his upper face hidden but the frown told me that there was something wrong rather than he was upset with me.

"What?" I quirked a brow at him. "Did I slam my head into your nose again?"

He was frowning from irritation a quick moment but erased it immediately afterwards, pretending that the small incident had never happened or just didn't bother him the slightest bit. I noticed it was still early, the sky was still a hue of purple and orange but the blue was beginning to come in. My eyes wandered to the mountain line of the terrain and I saw an orange outline becoming brighter, and I couldn't help but watch with fascination as the sun rays began to flood the wide landscape with light. I wasn't much of a nature girl, but I couldn't help but see the beauty of how nature could be when it had its moments.

"I heard you cry out in your sleep."

And that moment of beauty I was enjoying was ruined. "What?"

"When I went to wake you," Altair explained, leaning away and looking elsewhere. "You were crying in your sleep."

"Oh." mom sometimes told me the exact same thing when I dreamt about dad. I hated my brothers looking at me and asking why I was crying, it broke me to pieces to have them look at me like that.

"You panicked when I tried to wake you as well."

"Don't..." he was the one shaking me during my sleep, I realized, but I couldn't blame him for making the dream seem real. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried."

It was silent then on, between me and him. Usually, the mornings began with Altair and myself beginning our spats between one and another, how I should be put into my place as a woman from my sharp tongue but I would point out that my behaviour was such because he was a complete ass towards me. Malik was like the bridge, trying to keep the pillars strong and not crumbling, being the middle man or the peacemaker. But he was mostly taking to my side, since me and him didn't really like that hoodie jerk who had an ego as big as the Hindenburg zeppelin.

Today though... it was different, not the wake-up-and-glare-at-him/her moments. This must be the first time Altair has ever witnessed me have a nightmare, mom always told me how it sometimes scared her how I moved around and cried out it my sleep, like I was possessed or something. Just really upsetting stuff. Maybe my nightmare had upset him somehow, like not the "shut up and let me sleep, dammit" kind of upset but the "stop having those nightmares, you're freaking me out here!" kind.

Altair still sat close to me, his eyes gazing to where I had been watching not long ago, basking in the glory of the orange sun that was slowly coming to rise over the mountains and ascend towards the sky to reveal itself more further to the sleeping world. I wasn't in the mood of fighting and arguing with the white-robed man, I just needed time and peace for myself to calm down from the terrible memories that haunted me from time to time when it wanted to, and Altair gladly didn't pick a fight with me.

"I see you two have not slit each other's throats then!"

I had almost forgotten about Malik! We both looked over our shoulders to see the approaching bureau master, his single arm wrapped around a fat water skin, mostly likely preparing for the road.

"We'll be arriving Masyaf soon," Malik informed me, dumping the water skin in the back with me in the cart. "So go ahead and get some rest."

"Uh..." I didn't know what to say, I really was tired but I couldn't go back to sleep, not after...

"So," Altair called my attention, interrupting my thoughts. "Can you tell me what you're father has been up to after so many years?"

The cart gave a small jerk and was on the move towards Masyaf, the home base of the assassins and the birthplace of Altair, Malik, and Mikhail. My eyes caught the glimpse of dark eyes looking at me intently, and like the first time I meet this man who hid underneath the white hood and behind the hidden blades, I felt compelled. Quickly breaking out of those girlishly stupid thoughts that only young naive girls would ever dream of, I looked down at my lap and fumbled with my make-shift clothes, trying to come up with the right words to describe my father. I didn't want to get something wrong about him, but so far all what was said about my personality was that I acted a lot like Mikhail and I sure as hell cursed like him, too.

It didn't really take me that long to come up with a story that was most believable and closer to what my real dad would do at my own time.

"My father was a teacher of sorts..." I began.

And two former students of a legend were eager to hear about their childhood hero.

* * *

**Later**

Masyaf looked like a very proud fort.

I watched in awe as Malik led the horses downhill where the entrance was, two guards that were almost dressed similar to Altair's robes, only much shorter. Glancing back at Altair **(who caught my scrutinizing gaze and glared at me)** I noticed his weapons and then looked back at the two men stationed at the gates, not as armed at the assassin that rode in this long trip. It probably meant these guys were some sort of grunts, a low level of assassin and Altair was on a higher rank than them.

"Pull on your hood." Malik softly ordered me.

Like it was said before from Malik, Mikhail was a kind of person who left lasting impressions on people who knew of him. That also included very few that hated the man for abandoning his brothers while on a mission, so it was only wise that I did not show something about me that could trigger a small riot of people that had it against my "father". Setting down the cart in a nearby stable, I hopped down from the cart as Malik and Altair went ahead towards the guards to probably explain the situation why a civilian like me was brought to a place that was off limits to suspicious outsiders.

Altair looked over his shoulder at me and gestured his hand towards him, I walk towards him and then the two men and I were heading inside through the gates, but not before getting some hard looks by the men at the gates. I was in awe when I walked inside, there were people here and there like in Jerusalem, but this place had more green to it rather than those mud-built buildings. It was like a village you see from some movie, only it was for real.

All in all, Masyaf was beautiful.

"Keep up, don't dawdle." Altair commanded with irritation in his voice.

"Sorry," I mutter, catching up to the assassin and bureau master. "This is a pretty nice home you have here."

Malik gave out a small chuckle from deep within his chest, probably feeling complimented of how someone was swept away from the eye catching view of his place of birth. Altair said nothing, of course he says nothing, he being the stoic and silent hero that others would see him to be and others who actually knew him just thought he was a dick.

On the way towards the giant castle, I would catch some people spying on and staring at us with interest and confusion, but mostly all eyes were on the little hooded girl that followed after a man who was suppose to be stationed in Jerusalem and another who should have reported to this place a few days ago. You really can't blame a person over their fear of horses, can you? I kept close to the two men, not liking all the staring and whispers that occurred behind our backs.

I felt like I was on one of those hiking trips I took with Cheryl and her mom, the hills were steep and just slow to get up through, it was the exact same thing I was feeling when climbing my way up towards the castle that began to grow much bigger the closer we all got to it. I've never been to a castle, the only thing close to castle was a fancy-looking school that I once took a tour inside for a college application. Some students would take in for hard work and high grades.

I'm actually alright in my grades, I want to work myself to a good record so that I can apply to a great school in my future so that way mom wouldn't have much trouble with money, I also had to find a job to support not only myself but for my brothers when they come to the age of thinking about their own future goals. I was once again broken out of my thoughts when Altair sharp voice cut through the air.

"Don't stray behind!" he growled at me.

"Hold your horses, I'm coming!" I snapped back.

A walkway was seen, some people going in or out. I followed closely behind the two and climbed the narrow path until finally reaching the main entrance of the castle, quick to find a courtyard where I spotted some young men training with a hooded man who shouted and intructed the youths how to move correctly in the way of the sword. Future assassins, I bitterly murmured in my mind, eyes dazed. How do you teach someone to kill another? How do you teach another person to take life away with no hesitation?  
How do you teach a human to not feel when committing to assassinhood?

A flight of stairs but not troublesome, another pair of guards stood by the entrance where it led inside the castle, I couldn't help but look up to see a large window where I spotted someone standing there, looking down at us as I was looking up at them. I didn't stay to stare any longer, I caught up quickly to my guides or otherwise Altair was going to notice that was I straying and start to bring out some rope to tie me up with and drag me around like a dog.

"Stop," a guard halted our little group. "What are you doing outside of Jerusalem?"

"It is important business, one I wish to discuss with the Master." Malik snapped, back to his bad attitude that he had been directing to Altair during our travels.

"Altair?" the other guard looked at the silent assassin and then towards me. "What is this woman doing here?"

"As Malik said," Altair growled, getting peeved by the passing seconds from being prevented of getting through. "Important business. Now move aside."

_'Wow, lotta stress in the air, right guys?'_ I winced from when the guard shifted on his feet nervously.

"Do as you wish." the guard finally moved away, letting us pass through.

I was starting to get nervous at this point, the guards in the front gate were okay to deal with, but these guards at the castle entrance that led inside a hall where more guards were stationed, they looked pretty ruthless. Like they were expecting us to step out of line so that way they had an excuse to stab me with those swords of theirs that hung on their hips. If this is how bad it was for an innocent stranger, I would only could assume the worse when they were haters of Mikhail.

But these guys were complete sexist pigs, all men were sexist pigs at this day and time, well every guy except Malik. Malik was the good guy and like any good guy, he is determined cool in my list. That was another thing I hated about being here, I was limited to rights that I never thought I'd probably never have to face. Men thought of women as properties, women had no say to anything, and they were beaten to submission should the husband think it was "right" to do so. These people were so damn strict in their traditions, I was only glad I found those robes in the shack or I would have looked more out of the crowd with my current modern clothes. I would have been called some sort of whore if I even showed a little too much skin than my feet, hands, or face.

Gosh, if I was from here this whole law thing would drive me up the wall, I'm just glad I ain't really from around here, I wanted to get out of this year as soon as possible, the book being my only hope to finding a way to travel forward into the time where everyone could be still looking for me.

_'Again, more stairs!'_ I glared at the steps as we climbed, I was really missing those elevators, but that's probably because I never get out too much and was a big saying I needed to work out and get used to this because something told me I was gonna be stuck here for a long while until I figured out what to do to get out of here.

"Malik, Altair." an elderly voice calls from ahead of us.

I finally got a look at this Al Mualim person, the one that had been the last person Mikhail had talked to the night before the mission where he suddenly betrayed his brothers, his friends, his home... his life. He looked to be around his 50's, his beard was graying and I saw his right eye was a milky shade of white with a scabbed scar which meant he was blind from some battle ages ago. He dressed up like Malik, with the white robes, dark brown belt with the red sash tied around it, and a dark blue cloak that covered it mostly, and a hood to complete the "Grand Master" assassin look.

"Al Mualim," both men bowed, I was quick to follow along since I didn't want to be deemed rude.

"Who is this woman you bring along?" there was anger in his tone, but it was thankfully not directed at me but towards Altair.

Seems like Altair had a lot of people out for him, he just had people biting his ass left and right to no end. Okay, sure, he's an asshole and he's got the big ego thing going on, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit of pity on the guy.

"Pull down your hood, Gabrielle." Altair ordered me, calm.

With some hesitancy, I raised my hands and gently pushed back the make-shift hood off my head and my hair fell back to place, my eyes nervously looking up to the elderly man as he took in my profile; a young girl who was shaking like a leaf and nothing much significant than being another random civilian mixed up with assassins.

"Gabrielle?" Al Mualim furrowed his brows.

_'Why couldn't I have a femenine name? Like Alexia, or Samantha, or maybe even—'_

"This child," Altair drew me closer by the shoulder. "Is of Mikhail Abd al Karim."

_'Way to put it bluntly, thanks a ton Altair.'_

There was a long stretch of silence and then there was a hand grabbing a hold of my chin, forcing it to face the elderly man that looked at me face with much intensity, I felt nervous under his gaze, worried what this would lead to. Altair and Malik did not move, didn't dare to speak up for a long time as Al Mualim scrutinized my face to see what resemblance I held to a man that had disappeared from Masyaf many years ago.

And then he was looking at my eyes, I wanted to draw them away but he kept them locked on me, it was like he was searching something that no one else could see. Often I hear people say that the eyes are like windows to the soul, so this situation had me wondering; was he looking into my soul? Finally, Al Mualim released me and took steps back to give me space, still staring at my face with an unreadable expression, I felt a little worried, terrified at what my fate would lead to.

"It would sound like Mikhail to give his daughter a masculine name."

... I really wanna get the birth certificate and change it to Amelia now.


	7. Way of the Village I am NOT!

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:** Awww, some reviews are and some are sad. Happy that I updated after so long, sad because I don't update for a long time and I can't help my heart break a little from that. Yeah, I hate those authors that take so long to update awesome stories and I sure as hell don't want to become anything like that, give my viewers what they need from a good Assassin's Creed story. Anyway, I love you guys from reviewing and supporting this story after so long.

On another note, anyone who knows very well about the Arab/Islam traditions, please contact and tell me since I don't know what the heck I'm doing most of time. I really don't want to offend people if I got the whole thing wrong, I want to make it as mature or as realistic as possible but with modern on the side from the presence Gabrielle provides. Thank you very much and remember to read and review this story! Beta'd by _**AmandaMaiu**_, thank you so ever much my friend!

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

Funny that no matter what you do some things just like to remain stubborn and annoy the hell out of you because life finds it very fun to make you miserable.

I'm washing dirty laundry.

After the confirming that I was indeed the "daughter" of Mikhail, Al Mualim needed a word with a fellow assassin that was somewhere in the village, a man named Abbas** (the mention of the name put a damper on Altair's mood, as if that wasn't already enough)** on the matter on what was to be done with me **(which thankfully wasn't something awful)**. As I recall from Malik's story telling on how he met Mikhail, Abbas was an assassin that worked alongside the legend.

Why was this man needed, I wondered, but there was nothing I could do at this point.

Al Mualim called for a servant girl that had just came out from the gardends behind the building where half-clothed beautiful women were spawning all over. Basket full of laundry and not 30 minutes later, I'm knee deep in a cold river and awkwardly splashing dirty and smelly clothes with my bare hands. Oh, how unsanitary this is... Please send time travelers back here so they could send me back to my year before I die from disgust!

"Stop spacing out, child!" an older woman snapped, knocking me back from my thoughts. "At your slow rate, it will be winter by the time you are done."

Ouch. A bit harsh, aren't we?

"Sorry..." I muttered, going back to work.

Gosh, I really hate being back in time, makes me appreciate the littles things from home, such as the dishwasher, the washing and drying machine, and eletrical appliances that helped the daily routine of a human being without having to do so much. But I have to suck it up for now, at least until I finally figure out a way to go back home. For now, I'll try my best to deal with cleaning up a guy's dirty breeches and very, VERY smelly tunics...

Oh Lord, take me now!

"Child!" the woman again reprimands me, her wet wrinkly dark hands on her hips and pointing me a dirty look. "If you had a husband, he would—"

"Listen lady!" I snapped, I really don't like being talked and pushed around like I was dirt. "I may be out of order on how to do things how you do it, but at least my family taught me something very important: it's called manners!"

The women looked at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, the older lady was gasping like a fish out of water and had her hand pressed against her chest at my own attitude. She must have been quite offended by being pointed out about her manners, but I felt pretty damn proud and striking a nail and shutting her up for good. Normally I'm never this rude to someone, but let me tell you year 2000-something kids, you will not be happy if someone keeps hautedly telling you things every 10 minutes.

"And another thing, I don't have a husband so please, for all that is holy, back off and let me do my work!"

With that said, I grabbed all the dirty clothes and sashayed farther away from this group of women that watched with surprise **(and some with admiration?)** as I left them behind. Finally getting enough space between me and them, I went back to work on these set of dirty clothes. I felt like the black sheep in the white flock, just out of place and out of this world **(literally)**. It probably wasn't wise to stray so far from the group considering the dangers but I really didn't wanna give that lady a reason to keep snapping at me while I was still close by, I'd rather be miles away and not have to hear her sqwuaking voice.

"How un-ladylike."

I paused in my work and look over my shoulders to see a man dressed in the assassin robes leaning against a tree, he looked much older than Altair, I noted. He had a full beard and short hair, skin dark but not like Malik, his eyes just dark and brows furrowed towards me, he looked very casual with his arms crossed. Almost relaxed, but like most assassins, he was still on guard when outside of the village of Masyaf. I sighed, knowing very well he saw me snapping at the older woman and now was here to do something about it, well, I wasn't sorry for what I said, that nosey woman had it coming.

"What do you want?" I drawled out, hands on my hips as I glared at the man with a frown.

His reply was a quirk of his brows, coming to rise to his hairline before a small smile grew on his lips. He let out a small laugh, pushing away from the tree and scratching the back of his head.

"... just like him."

"I get that a lot." no really, haven't you been following the story people?

"I'm sure." he agrees, looking at me. "I am Abbas Kowt-e Ashrow."

_'So this the guy...'_ I thought.

"Your name?"

"Gabrielle." I introduced myself, not bothering with the last name considering I don't know how to say it or even remember it. "And yes, it is a very masculine name."

"I wouldn't have expected much less of him to do that."

"So, why are you here?" I turned my back on him, going back to work.

"Straight to the point, yes? Well, at least I don't need to worry much about you, other than your wrath."

"You won't need to worry about it as long as we're on equal terms. I was raised to be an equal with men."

"Really?"

"You respect me and I respect you. It's just how it is." I looked back at him. "I'll ask again, why are you here?"

"It is in the manner of where you will be placed in Masyaf. Word reached of a child of Mikhail in the village, some aren't very pleased."

"Why am I not surprised?" I mutter, working on another pair of breeches.

"I said some, not a lot of people hate your father." Abbas corrects me, smiling slightly as he watched me struggle.

"... Are you offering me shelter?" I slowly ask, my eyes looking at him with curiosity.

He said nothing, but his dark head only nods in reply.

"Yes." he answers. "You could say I am in debt of Mikhail... I am sure he had reasons of why he left."

"He left in the middle of a mission." I flatly said, a little bothered how cold my voice was. "He could have waited afterwards. Right?"

"I really don't know what to believe." the older man looks at me. "But... I would still like to welcome you to my home. It is the least I can do, for him anyway."

Why, I wondered, did Mikhail leave behind this place? Why did he leave a friend that still believed in him despite having left his brothers in the middle of a mission and not without warning or word.

"I... I'd like that. Thank you."

* * *

After an hour of washing clothes, I trailed after the group of women who headed back to the village, the old hag in the lead. I was recieved several stink eyes from the older women but I only gave them a hard glare that mom sometimes told me was just like dad when he got angry when things weren't working properly at the house **(and starts cursing when he thinks I wasn't standing beside him)**. But despite all that, I was in a better mood, the talk with Abbas was comforting and I felt safe being under his guardianship, there was something about him that gave the vobe of being a father-figure of sorts to me.

"You are a very brave girl." a voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Eh?" I dumbly look beside me to see a girl a bit taller and older than me walk by my side, carrying a basket for herself.

"You," she giggles. "You're very brave. Unwise, yes, but brave."

"Oh," I nod, figuring she was talking about my back talk with the old woman. "Well, she had it coming."

"I am Adiba." she smiles, nodding her head politely.

"Name's Gabrielle, nice to meet you." I grinned, offering my hand.

She looks at it awkwardly before taking it, I shook out hands before letting go. "Such a masculine name."

"I've been told."

"Is it true, Gabrielle?" she asks, voice full curiosity.

"What is?" I quirk a brow.

"You are the only daughter of Mikhail, an old assassin from the village long ago."

"Oh, yeah. I guess so." I still found it hard to believe my 'father' was an assassin.

"You two, hurry along!" a woman ahead of us called.

"Yes, yes. Come along Gabrielle." Adiba ushers me to follow along with the group to where we would hand and dry these clothes.

"I'm coming along, no need to rush. Jeeze." I muttered, climbing up the hill with the rest of the women.

On the way to the top, I notice the attention I got during the walk up the path to the place where we would dry these clothes, and I knew it was not the curiosity of a new comer in this village brought by and assassin and a bureau master, but because I was the daughter of an assassin that had left this place many years ago without warning what so ever. I got heated glares, I got pointed fingers, I got gossiping whispers, I even twice or thriced got yelled at by some random guy.

Jeeze Mikhail, what did you do? And why did you do it?

"You know," I hear Adiba whisper beside me, eyes ahead on the path. "I still believe, despite what others say, that Mikhail is a truly great man."

I found myself saying, "Thanks."

"Gabrielle!" I heard my name being called from a little behind me.

Adiba and I stopped and looked behind to see Malik climbing the trail, and Altair straying behind like some puppy. I give Adiba a nod to go on ahead without me since I didn't want her to get in trouble, she only nodded and would inform the other women of my absence. I waited for the two men to reach me before I would ask them what was needed.

"What's up?"

"The sky." Altair replied, a frown on his face.

I could NOT pass up something like this. "What's down?"

"The ground." I think he was glaring me from the stupid questions.

"What's side to side?"

"Gabrielle," Malik shook his head, not wanting to try and hold back Altair from strangling me with his one arm.

"Ah sorry, so what happened? I hope you didn't get into trouble." I looked at Malik with worry.

"No, a rafiq has taken my place while I was away. It won't be a bother." Malik wave his hand over the issue like it was nothing. "How are you?"

"Well," I gestured the laundry basket in my arms. "I'm doing okay, but that old hag is a real piece of work. She's got a mean streak! It's like she has something against me..."

"Mikhail did often found trouble with her, always trying to seduce ALL three of her daughters." Altair smirked frostily over my troubles.

"... Damn." I mutter, looking back to where that old bat and her posse ended up. "No wonder. She's taking it all out on me!"

"Don't listen to him, she's like that with everyone." Malik glared at his companion.

"But I was not lying about his charms over the three women." Altair added, looking at me.

I looked at Malik but the dark man only looked innocently else where, leaving me to sulk over the fact that I was getting all the dirty face because my dad had left some impressions that were unwelcomes and unwanted.

"Great, I'm cleaning after my father's crap. That's just brilliant." I growled, wanting to tear apart these clothes out of frustration of what I had to deal with.

"Did you find a place to stay, we could always ask one of the girls to—"

"Who's we?" Altair growled.

"Don't worry about that, someone actually came and offered me a place while I was at the river."

"Oh?" Altair crossed his arms. "And who is that?"

"Some old friend of my father, Abbas." I shrug, fixing the weight of the basket in my arms to a comfortable position.

Altair scowled at the name and I only raised my brows at him, the white robed assassin ignored me and moved past me towards the castle for the sleeping quarters he and Malik would be staying. Shrugging off his never ending dark attitude he had with people and the rest of the world, I looked back at Malik with a questioning look, the dark man only shrugged with a small mischevious smile spreading over his handsome features.

"Let's leave it to Mikhail to have a bad influence over his fellow brothers to use their sharp tongues and bring a strong man to their knees with their words."

Oh, so Abbas and Altair didn't get along so dandy, eh? I could only share that smirk with Malik.

"You best hurry along with the other women. That bat is going to start yelling again." Malik snickered at the old woman looking down at me and him with an angry face.

"Okay. See you later!" I called as I hurried my climb up the hill where Adiba and the women were hanging up the clothes.


	8. The interesting thing about her

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N:** Gosh, this story is becoming way popular than I thought it would be. I got over 90 reviews **(I'm gonna aim for more than 100 reviews if I can make my stories good enough)** and so many people picking this story to be their story alert and favorite **(on a occasion I'm chosen as a favorite author (isn't that sweet?)** and I really wanna make this chapter really good for you guys. I apologize for the last one being short but I really just wanted to clear some stuff there, it was just her finding some establishment and what sort of job she would be doing since now that she lives with a bunch of assassins **(some epic adventure in time, no?)** and try to understand what is going on being in the 12th century and the situation of Mikhail's sudden abandonment from the Brotherhood. Only time will tell, ONWARDS! Read and review my pretties!

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

Life here is completely different from the future society I was born and raised in. There was some similarities but that was just 10 percent out of 100, the 90 percent was rules, rules, and more rules. But like any normal kid, I just had to stand out from the rest of everyone that fits in perfectly well with the rest, like preps sticking to preps, geeks sticking to geeks, and normal people stick to normal people. While there are often people who would love to stick out and just be themselves, this time and era did not let slide things so easily as it had from the mordern era.

And I stood out like a black sheep from the happy white flock.

Abdula, aka the old hag that yaps, thought it to be more suitable that I carried two large heavy buckets of water AND climb up the steep hills to dumb them in some tub for some of the girls over yonder behind the big castle so that they may bathe in. She threatened to beat me with a stick should I drop the water or hurry and make haste because she had other jobs for me to do that required I pull buckets full of water everywhere around Masyaf.

I really, REALLY hate that old hag.

"Damn old... prissy woman... Curse you, Mikhail...!" I wheezed, climbing the trail up and ignoring some odd stares of bystanders who heard my mutterings. "You owe me... big time...!"

"What are you muttering about, girl?" that irritated voice, no doubt I would ever forget someone's use of tone.

Altair

"What do you want now?" I growled, hurrying in my stels but careful not to slip water or else I'd have to go fill it up and Abdula would be waiting at the bottom of the bank, if I tried to lie should would spot it easily. The girls had told me they had some punishment like slaps or hits from a stick from the cruel old lady for trying to evade the truth because either way, they were in trouble.

"You finally found something useful to do rather than just sleep and eat the days away while the rest just did the work," he followed me, thinking it be rather entertaining to get under my skin.

"As I recall, you weren't doing much either." I snapped back at him, careful to avoid people coming down the trail. "And shouldn't you be, I dunno, doing things."

I really couldn't say killing people because that was a bit cold and a little inhumane of me to suggest that he go and kill people, I would unconsiously order this guy to kill someone because he looked deprived of killing people. I shuddered at the thought when I had recalled the first time I saw someone dropped to the ground and never again open their eyes, the essence of life dyed in blood flowing out of them and exposed to the world...

"The Templars have been on look out for me, Al Mualim and Malik insist that I stay here until things have calmed down enough to let me pass through the gates with ease." Altair didn't sound happy that he was stuck here in this village. "I am to remain here until then."

"Well, isn't that lovely!" I sarcastically chirped, which earned a shadowed glare from the hooded assassin. "But don't let me be in the way of your luxurious stay, now run along now."

"You're more troublesome than your worth." he growled lowly.

I just brush him off, continuing on climbing the hill, through the castle, and in the gardens. It was actually quiet for once between me and him as I did chores like a good little submissive girl that Abdula wanted me to be and Altair just laying low from his job and trying his best to relax in his stay in Masyaf, though one thing did really bother me...

"Why are you following me?" I asked out loud, looking at him.

"I'm not following you, I just happen to walk the same direction." he frowned.

Such a classic excuse, but I suppose it's something new considering this day and age I landed my sleepy ass in... without even knowing I traveled back in time.

"Use some other direction, I don't wanna walk with you." I childishly argue, walking faster but he kept pace with me. "Hey! Cut it out!"

"You cannot walk in front of me, you're suppose to walk behind me, girl." Altair supplied.

"What? Is that some sort of custom around here?"

"It is how it's always been."

"Well screw that rule! I maybe cleaning and washing after you but I won't follow rules that have nothing to do with me!" I harshly snapped at him and climbed up the mountain, totally ignoring the burning on the back of my head which I knew was Altair glaring at me for my resistence.

I really hated being here.

* * *

**Later**

Baheera, one of the garden girls, lied on her stomach with her olive-toned legs in the air and moving back and fro as she watched with her dark brown eyes as the water filled the large bathe. Her slender arms supporting her head, humming a tune as she watched with delight the bathe being filled up enough for her to finally strip nude and cleanse herself properly to entice any of the men who seeked some entertainment of any sorts.

But besides her enjoyment in bathing, she was far more curious about the person putting the water in the concrete tub, her eyes taking in the features of the stranger that has come to be of a daughter from an old legendary assassin that not only struck the hearts of men with his blade but also struck the hearts of the old garden girls with his charm.

And from what she has heard from other girls, the daughter of Mikhail was just every bit like the man. Just as foul-mouthed, amusing, and rebellious. What's ironic is that she was brought here by the great assassin that had been demoted not too long ago due to his overconfidence and pride that costed the life of Malik's arm and the life of his younger brother, Kadar.

"Alright," the assassin's offspring announces, swiping the sweat off her brow. "That should do it."

"You have our thanks." Farah, another garden girl strode into the shaded area, her movements graceful from all her practices being a dancer to have the men want to beg into having her for the night.

Baheera frowned slightly, her eyes moved from Farah to the brown-haired girl and disappointed she would no longer be able to enjoy her company. She never met a girl who spoke amongst men, walked proudly like she was of higher status when really she was a chore girl, and be one of the few who got away with the last word when dealing with the ill-tempered demoted assassin.

"Can she not stay a little while longer?" Baheera pleaded, looking at the older woman.

"Huh?" the girl in question responded. "Wha?"

"She must have other chores to do, Baheera." Dalal entered, along with many of the other girls. "Besides, there simply isn't enough room in here."

"She's right, I have tons of things to do. I should be going now!" the young girl grabbed her things and stood up to leave.

"You'll come back sometime, won't you?" the young garden girl called behind the other girl's back.

Oh, she wanted to know everything about this one. She was so different and unique, she really stood out like a stick in the mud. The task of a garden girl was quite simple; accompany a man who is in need of companionship and just needed to let his mind go of the overwhelming work in fighting Templars, greedy noblemen, double-crossing high ranking soldiers, and corrupted merchants. She had seen numerous times behind the nature in people's minds when they were left vulnerable under her care, and she was growing tiresome of the same thing she had seen with every man she had.

But this girl... she was unlike anything she had ever across. A complex puzzle that needed to be pieced and brought back together to see what it's true image actually is. A mystery in the form of an assassin's beloved daughter finding her roots in her father's old life as the great assassin that shot fear in his enemies.

"We'll see." was Gabrielle's only reply before disappearing through the open frame of the castle's entrance.

"Why are you so eager to see her again, little one?" Dalal asks as Baheera returns to the shades where the girls bathed and chattered amongst each other. "I've never seen you so interested since the first time you came into the gardens."

"I'm interested in many things Dalal, you just never chose to pay attention."

"You whelp."

The young girl only giggles before removed her robes to bare herself and allow the cool water taker her in and freshen her before the night would overcome the sky and prepare herself for when a group of the assassins being dispatched by Al Mualim return home after being away for nearly 2 months.

* * *

"You look as though you are about to drop dead."

"Thanks for pointing that out."

Abbas only offered a smile and a wood cup full of water, I gratefully take it and gulp it down in three before settling down on the table and rest my head in my folded arms, letting out a sigh of relief that I was done with whatever that bag lady needed from me.

Never had I worked so hard in my life, there was the laundry, the bucket full of waters to carry in steep mountain trails, shave the skin off hundreds of pototoes with a dull knife, and poor Adiba got scolded when she tried to help me.

"I will be going away," Abbas says, grabbing my attention. "I along with some other novices will leave for Acre. We leave in two days."

"Novices? Isn't that dangerous?"

"These are the ones that show much improvement than the rest of the others. But they will not handle the difficult kind, just the sort to learn what the ones with experience can do."

"Oh, show and tell?"

"You can call it like that, yes."

"Well, don't get yourself killed, I wouldn't know how to deal with that old hag..." I mumble, rubbing my temples before adding.

"Safety and peace."

It was something I had often heard other assassins greet each other when either arriving or leaving, like it was a wish of don't die and try to stay out of too much trouble. Even though I wasn't sure I myself should say things like that, I really wanted to let him know that I wanted him back here because he was just one of those few that made me feel safe. The corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile hidden behind his facial hair, nodding his thanks for my concern.

"I should go to bed now, good night Abbas." I excused myself, heading for my room near the corners of the small home.

An hour later and as tired as I am, I kept myself awake as I stared at the open window revealing the dark blue sky littered with thousands and thousands of stars shining down on Masyaf's silent village. My thoughts still wandered about my life in old times of the Middle East, even thoughts about my family's well-being without me.

_'Are you okay mom? Are the boys behaving? Are you still looking for me?'_

So many thoughts, so many scenarios, and so many times that I wished I woke up one morning to the sound of my brothers loud shenanigens and the smell of breakfast of one of mom's many specials. I wanted to do a lot of things when I grew up, such as travel the world like Cheryl and have a great job in some big company as well, go the distance with some unknown talent of have yet to pick up on and just... be out there where I am needed. I wanted to find love with someone special to my heart, hold him close to me and give myself to him only.

But here I am, hundreds of years in the past and I had nothing but a little book that was my only hope to take me back home. Reaching carefully under the cot, my hands felt the touch of old leather and I pull it up so that I had the book in my hands. Closing my eyes and letting out a prayer, I clutched the book to my chest and hoped to God that He send me back home to a family centuries ahead from this time.

And if not having awaken from this realistic dream of the past, then at least He keep my family safe.

_'Miss you mom... Cole, Drake... dad.'_

And sleep claimed me that night.

* * *

**Next Morning**

The usual wake up, the sun barely high in the sky yet the air was humid as ever, and the village bustling with life. It was the typical morning routine for those who live in Masyaf.

And I am still stuck in the past.

_'Cursed book, did Mr. Utivitch handed that damn thing to me to get kicks out of it?'_ I growled as I am again stuck at fruit peeling.

I sat outside but thankfully in the shades, peeling a mango fruit at a time to prepare a feast for the incoming assassins arriving for Abbas to ready the other young novices and replace the ones who returned to Masyaf. Besides, I had to be quick with my work because Abdula demanded I needed to learn how to sew when she saw my hesitance when I didn't know what the fuck I was doing with the fabric handed to me. Adiba happily volunteered to help me learn the ways of sewing, saying I needed to learn or otherwise I wouldn't be viewed as proper woman. Pft, whatever.

It's been a week and two days after my arrival in this era but I am slowly getting accustomed to my new surroundings, but I still refuse to see the ways of their laws because I still am an American. I'll just do my best to stay out of the way and out of trouble but no matter what, I will not follow rules that do not apply to me. When one time talking about my place in this village, Abbas and Malik jokingly agreed that it would be strange that I started doing exactly what Abdula expected of me, otherwise they would not have recognized me as the child of that man.

"Is that her?" I hear someone a little far off to my right say.

Peeking over my shoulder I spot a small group of boys. Few younger and older than me. Novices, Abbas calls them when I had visited him in the castle with an assassin instructor named Rauf in his company. Boys learning the ways of how to kill a man, the same way Altair and Malik had learned before reaching manhood. I counted five of them, all hooded except one boy, showing his shaggy brown hair.

"She can't be," one boy speaks, looking to a smaller Novice of the group. "Are you lying?"

"No, no! My sister says its her!" another boy shakes his head, rudely pointing at me. "That is her!"

_'Hello, I'm right here!'_ I scowled, rolling my eyes and returning to my work on the peeling.

"Hey, girl!" another voice interrupts, this one sounding much older.

I am surprised to find a tall boy, looking an older than me, looming over my tiny form with his arms crossed and looking down at me from the shadow of his hood. For a second, I could have sworn this was like a kid version of Altair, I really don't want to have to deal with another Altair when I already couldn't stand with just one.

"Uh, yeah?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Are you the daughter of that traitor, Mikhail?" he roughly asked, sneering at me.

Oh, so he was one of those haters. I was still getting by with the dirty looks of some who believed Mikhail to have been a coward, a traitor, an unholy bastard when he left the brotherhood without warning and without a word. I would have liked to learn more about that night between Al Mualim and my "father" but I didn't want to be rude. Like I was told from Malik before arriving Masyaf, Mikhail left an impression on people and those who were hurt saw this as betrayel and focused their anger on me, his "daughter".

"That'd be me." I say nonchalantly, looking back to my work to finish the few fruits remaining. "What do I owe the pleasure of your lovely company my good sir?"

"You really have a wretched tongue on you, girl." I hear him growl but I ignore it.

"I've been told that very often, believe me." I reply. Seriously, this confrontation between me and him is nothing new.

"Hassan," another Novice calls the older and taller boy, his voice sounded worried.

"Believe you?" the boy—Hassan—snorts. "Your father is a liar, a seducer, and a scum. Why wouldn't I think that should not apply to his family as well?"

Okay, this fucker was pushing it.

"You've never met my father so don't assume you know anything about him because obviously, you don't." I coldly snap, furiously shredding the skin off my victim—I mean, fruit. Really.

"That's funny. Because from what I've heard, apparently you don't know your father since he kept his own secrets to himself instead of revealing them to his precious daughter."

The gloves are fucking off!

I slammed the knife and fruit in the bucket and shot to my feet, whirling around to face that smug-looking bastard that stood a head taller than me. I know, I am immature if I get peoples words under my skin but dammit, my pride is hurt and that asshole was poking where his ugly finger shouldn't be poking. My dad was someone important to me, left an impression on me and scarred me when he killed himself so many years ago.

"What do you want?" I demand with passionate anger flaring from me like wildfire. "Do you want to fight me? Try to get off on feeling high and mighty than those under you? If so then you're a sorry piece of shit and but the scum between my toes!"

Looks like I wasn't the angry one here.

"You...!" Hassan growled dangerously, hands folded in fists and ready to beat me. I readied myself, folding my own fists to get ready and go on a smack-down with this uptight bastard that dared look down on me.

"Hassan!"

I will never admit it out loud, but never have I been glad to see that bag lady Abdula approach and break up an ugly fight that was about to go down. Her old eyes furiously glaring at the older boy as she came closer, I dropped my hands to my side and watched until she stopped beside me, her eyes still burning on Hassan's face.

"What in Allah's name is wrong with you!" she demands, hands on her hip before her she looked at me. "And what are you doing standing like a statue? Get to work!"

Back to hating this woman, geez.

"I was just having a little chat with her," Hassan calmly lies, folding his arms cooly like he hadn't lost it to begin with.

"Have another chat elsewhere, she is working! Now be off with you or I will let your father know of your insolence!" she warned him, at the mention of his father Hassan flinched.

_'Hah, got you whipped!'_ I smirked, which he caught and glared at me.

Abdula went to the other boys and shooed them off to return to their training up at the castle. Before Hassan left though his shadowed eyes locked onto mine and I read the message without having to hear him say it;

This wasn't over.


	9. Like a Harem Dream

**Falling in the Plains of Time**

**A/N: **HELLZ YEAH, OVER 100 REVIEWS! I MAKING IT IN THE BIG LEAGUE NOW GIRLS **(laughs like a maniac)**! The sweetest thing ever, **_Annindofu_** has shown me her fanart and I fell in love with it. It's posted on my homepage for anyone curious to see, just look for the title of the story and there's the links **(_Annindofu_'s pic makes me feel so small yet I am proud that someone gave me their fanart for a story they love, now THAT says something!)**.

Ooohh! So, as I recalled in the old story, the group of boys were introduced and Hassan, the leader, picked on Gabby and then a fued was made between them. But since the rewrite, I've thought long and hard and I didn't want their fight to last long. Please don't hate me if this chapter makes anyone OOC-ish, I just wanted to have a little fun when the battle between good ol' Gabby and that jerk Hassan have made them enter in a whole new level of craziness. Also, I want to say that if I don't update in some long while, it's because I'm on a long trip to China with my family **(against my will)** so please don't be upset if this update is longer than usual.

Man, that's all I ever hear from you readers. UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE, NOW BITCH! **(the last one is a joke, I promise XD)** This pleases me that everyone is so giddy and excited to see what's up next in this story. I have to say, I'm very pleased at what I got so far, Gabrielle is no Mary-Sue, Altair and the rest of the AC characters are not acting out of character, and things are just running smoothly. It's probably boring to some who have are deprived of the action in killing and assassinating targets but that's to be uxpected because I'm trying to be unique in this. All you ever read now are OC's that are not so original and just complete perfect or something along those lines. I'm sorry but I'm becoming somewhat hesitant to read stories and I have to carefully look for something suitable **(probably Justin Bieber, TWILIGHT, and Hannah Montana fans)**. Anyway, yeah, you won't see that action in some time but we'll get there eventually and we get down with the romance material! Hells yeah!

**Disclaimer:** I do not any characters of the ever awesome game known as Assassin's Creed, although Gabrielle belongs to me!

* * *

"Come again?"

Abdula narrowed his beady black eyes at me, I just remained passive about it which she looked like she wanted to blow up, Holy Hand Grenade style of course. Without a word, she pointed her frail wrinkly fingers at the group of girls gathering water from the well and preparing for the blimb up hill.

"You are to help the others deliver fresh water to the boys in the castle," she simply instructed like she was talking to a tiny child and Abdula was not the kind of woman who had the patience of simpletons. "Now go, and do not return to the kitchens until you have finished or I will leave you starving!"

"Alright, alright," I huffed, walking past her.

Inaya, Johara, Latifa, Mona, and Mariam. Adiba says I should at least try and get along with the other women, but I am a still bit reluctant because most acted a lot like Adbula with their temper and urge to put me in the lines with the rest of the obediant girls. I bet my bottom dollar Adbula pitted me with these older housewives because she knew it would not only pressure me but she would just enjoy what the other women had to gossip about. It's times like these I hated being assumingly related to that floozy ex-assassin because nothing really much good came out of it but just craziness.

"And so she joins us," Mariam, one of the Gabrielle-bashing club members, speaks up with obvious disdain in her voice. "What a lovely evening this is going to be."

I just narrowed my eyes at her, Malik once told me when I had glared at Altair he instead saw his old teacher giving that look, and the old assassin had a certain dark look when made that face. It's what made him notorious because no one would suspect a foul loud-mouthed assassin with such a care-free personality to carry a very dangerous side that it would have looked as though he was possessed by an entirely different entity.

"Mariam, please," Mona shakes her head at the other woman. "Let us just be on our way for the men. They are waiting, are they not?"

"Fine," Mariam huffs. "The quicker we move on, the better."

I snort behind her, shaking my head before grabbing my own bucket and following after the older women up the hill, it was starting to get easier now since I'm getting used to walking down and up the mountain trail towards the castle. This was like a totally different excercise from the machines back in my time, like the Bowflex or treadmills. It was tough in the beginning but I'm starting to get around with this time and age, although I still have my own issues here and there but otherwise I'm pretty compfy.

_'Hard to imagine considering how this all began.'_ I added mentally in my head.

But with Abbas soon to leave for Acre with his hoodie patrol **(emo rangers XD)**, I was entrusted to take care of his home which made Abdula and some of the women scoff since they assumed a girl like me lacked the right drive and mind to take care of a house myself. Those old bats don't know I'm centuries ahead of them and of course I know how to take care of a house, it's just like mom had when leaving me to take care of the boys while she was out for a day in her job.

"You are adujusting very well," Latifa says as I walk by with her. "I remember mother calling you a donkey."

"Why am I not so surprised?" I rolled my eyes.

"And I believe she is right." Mariam readily agrees, dark head still looking forward and leading the group.

"Well, isn't someone full of sunflowers and rainbows." I sarcastically remarked, having enough sass from her.

"You have quite a tongue on you, little one." she darkly said, her turning towards me slightly.

"So I've been told."

The other women could have sword darkness engulfed both me and Mariam, the young against the old. Whatever, I may be the small one here but I am far from defensless, I had stabbed someone **(although I get nightmares and feel about it even though they tried to kill me in the first place)** so this really wasn't scary. I could slap her silly if she tried anything, I really could.

"We're here!" Mona broke the subliminal cat fight between us. "Come, lets give the men and boys their much needed water and towels.

The second I enter the courtyard I was left... dumbstruck. You all must be wondering why I was gawking with my mouth open like an idiot with a bug-eyed look on my face.

Because I was facing a large group of hot, sweaty, and majority of half-naked men who were panting heatedly with glassy eyes from the rough work-out of their training. Battle scars spotted here and their over their bodies, muscles rippled across every handsome face I've laid eyes on, and any moment now I was going to feel like I'm going to turn into a smoldering pile of goo who died from a massive nose bleed from too much exposure on the opposite sex.

"Gabrielle!" Mona shook me to follow her and the rest of the women. "Come along now, they're waiting for their water."

I only nodded dumbly, I couldn't trust my voice. If I had my voice at all after seeing this! One thing could only come across my mind at this point **(along with any other girls following this)**;

_'HOT DAMN! I'm in HEAVEN!'_

It took all my self-control to continue on like I was standing at the entrance like a venus flytrap waiting for a fly to come in, I made my way to the benches that were up against the nearby walls of the court and immediatly the guys started swarming in for the nice cool drink of water and the soggy towels to clean off the sweat dribbling off their god-like figures—

_'No, no! Bad Gabby! Bad!'_ I squeeked in my head, shaking off the steamy imagination that only Cheryl would think of.

"Well, well, if it isn't the little wench of that traitor."

_'That voice...'_ all hard-core thoughts of the male harem flooded out and replaced with annoyance from that one person in my hate list right next to Abdula. _'Hassan.'_

Whatever insults I had in my mind to use against that hooded menance that promised misery in my stay here all died when I faced my nemesis. Instead of looking at the hooded face, I was greeted by a tall hottie, just leaving me speechless. Standing 5'9, his shirt plastered very damply against his sweat-soaked body and his pants drooping dangerously low it was like a total tease. Muscles not as bulky but still enough to be admired and his molten chocolate eyes glaring from his handsome face with an attractive scar on the right of his temple. There was even a bit of stubble growing from his chin! Holy shit, my mind screamed, I am enemies against a hottie!

"Well?" he growled at me. "Say something!"

And I did.

"Bwuahh...?" I mumbled out, blinking owlishly at him.

He furrowed his brows at me, frowning deeply with confusion written on his face. "What?"

"Give him his water you little pest!" Mariam hissed at me, and finally I regained composure to myself.

"Geez!" I whirled around, facing her with a glare. "I don't think these men are the only ones who needs to cool off! I could practically see the smoke coming out of your ears! Go take a dip in the lake, lady!"

I inwardly smirked at the appalled look she had on her face, the same look Abdula made when I snapped at her the first time when she was beginning to push way too many buttons. I heard some snickers from the crowd of men, a few murmurs but I ignored them and faced Hassan, a blank on his face before holding a full big bucket of water for him. Hassan went back to his hard look afterwards, snatching the spoon from my hand like I was gonna bite him and took gulps of water for himself. Then he took a towel from me, wiping away the sweat as he watched me treat the other harem—I mean, the novices.

My body went on automatic drive while my mind wandered off into la~las~ land when I was greeted with men more handsome than the last. Ugh, if the girls in my school were here, they would be going on multiple orgasms without the need of actual foreplay. I may be a virgin but I can feel some heat on my stomach, my heart beat fluttering like a trapped hummingbird. I was getting sweaty myself from the rise of temperature being surrounded by so many handsome faces that bared the skins, I couldn't help but look at the other women, who didn't seem infected as I was.

"You finally made yourself useful." Hassan says from behind where he was sitting.

"Just take care of yourself and go away, you're so bothersome." I scowled at him.

"Idiot, I am resting!" he snaps at me. "Now be quiet and work, girl."

"You know, you're beginning to sound like some arrogant bastard that I have the unfortune to be aquanted with." I say, not bothering to face him. "A certian someone who is over-confident and had his head far stuck up his own ass. And has nothing better to kiss the feet of the Grand Master, or so Abbas says he does."

"And who is that?" had I really payed any attention, I would have noticed the change of voice, but I had obliviously continued on.

"Well, my lovely little novice, it is very own demoted stick-up-his-ass; Altair." I finished, smirking.

"You..." okay, this time, I noticed the change of the voice.

_'Please don't be who I think it is! Oh fuck, oh fuck!'_ I stiffened when I knew who was standing behind me.

When I had turned to face the terrifyingly angry Altair that I only insulted when in Malik or Abbas' presence **(they actually encourage the insults)**, all the fear went out of me. Like I has with Hassan only short minutes ago, I was floored by the sight of Altair. If I had thought Hassan was smoking, Altair was on FIRE! He was the very definition in everything a man should be or ever wished to be. He stood out from the rest of the men and older boys, the sun radiating from the sweat plastered all over him, his golden eyes making him more stand out. It was like standing before a Greek God in the flesh, just about to use his wrath on a little feeble mortal who offended the great hunter who soared and striked from the skies. And right now that Greek God from the skies was coming right at me with every intention do teach me my lesson, Hassan was smiling like a Chesire Cat, along with Mariam who was watching from the sidelines **(bitch)**.

And before anyone knew what happened, Altair found himself soaked to the bone, face frozen with shock. And I just stood there like an idiot before my eyes trailed at the person who splashed the water at Altair, stopping his advance towards me.

"M-Malik?" I squeeked, face turning red.

In all his glory, Malik stood there with an irritated look on his face, his muscled chest and abs revealed but his coat hanging from his shoulders. I just can't believe that I missed out on how beautiful Arab men could be, with their dark skin and the sun getting them sweaty they looked like they were sparkling people, more beautiful than those stupid Twilight wannabe-vampires. Malik's dark hair stuck to his forehead, all messy like had some rough night, and I couldn't help but cling to that image in my head. Forget that Malik was only a one-armed guy, he was a friggin' SEXY one-armed guy!

"That should help your ego somewhat. Hmph. Typical novice, letting a little girl get to your head." Malik snapped.

"I've had enough of her insults," Altair growled menacingly at Malik but the handicapped bureau master ignored him, his attention elsewhere.

"Gabrielle?"

_'So... many... hot... naked... men... Heaven...'_ my mind was like a hurricane and I was in the eye of the storm. If this was my time of dying, I would die happy!

Oh, how many girls would wish to be in my place, being surrounded by gorgeous men **(SQUEE! Fangirls, SQUEE!) **who stripped themselves to show more skin and their bodies shouting the neon sign of "made to tease". A brush against my shoulder and I found myself falling back and before I touched the ground, my world faded to black.

* * *

"Gabrielle!"

Altair caught the falling girl, his eyes on the feverish face of the annoying young girl that had done nothing but gotten under his skin since day one. Malik on the other side of the girl, his single hand resting over her forehead to feel for the strength of the stroke of heat. Another woman had rushed by quickly when she had seen the commotion, pushing a wet towel over her forehead to lessen the heat over the small girl.

"What happened?"

"She fainted!"

"Is it a fever?"

"She must be tired,"

"Abdula had been making her work extra harder than neccessary."

Altair ignored the squabbling going on, his eyes more trained on the girl in his arms, it was the second time the girl had fell in his arms, the first when she had been in shock from falling off the roof with the guard cushioning her fall back in Jerusalem. Tears flowing out, her bloody hands trembling and her ragged clothes stained lightly with the blood she spilled from that one Templar. And before he could stand up and cloth himself to take her to Abbas' home, he paused when he spotted something on the girl's face.

"What are you staring at?" Malik, like always, snaps at him. "Hurry up and help take the poor girl home, you insolent novice!"

Altair slowly rose his head up to face the scowling dark man, a confused look plastered on his own face that it too caused confusion to the bureau master. He looked down at the girl to see if it was actually there or it was trick from a long grueling work under the sun but it was still there.

"She's bleeding from the nose."

* * *

"WAH!" I shot up in my bed, eyes wide and face sweating heavily.

Abbas looked up from the scroll he was reading, quickly on his feet and in his hand a cup full of water to give to me. I took it thankfully, drinking it down in large gulps before fanning myself from the heat, Abbas sat on the cot and looking at me with concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, I just had this really awkward dream." I tell him, letting out a big sigh. "I was making delivery on the water and then I'm in a castle where there's a harem of men... and, and... they were surrounding me... and—"

"Harem of men?" Abbas' old eyes widen. "In a castle?"

"I thought I was about to die or... or melt into pudding, or something!" I wave my hands around dramatically, flopping down on the cot. "It was sooo... weird!"

"The others just told me you fainted from the heat when you were giving water to the men."

"... oh." so it wasn't a dream.

"Altair also said you were bleeding from the nose." Abbas added, he missed my stiffened reaction and my blush. "Is there something I should be concerned about my guest?"

"U-uh, no, it happens on a occasion but not so often, no need to worry." I stammered slightly, wiping the sweat off my brow.

"I was left with a message, it comes from Abdula."

"What does that old cranky woman want? I'm now allowed food? I already got that before she sent me off to the castel." I groan, ducking under the covers but it was pulled back by Abbas.

"She's only thinking the best for you, she even went ahead out of her kindness to deliver you some food." the elder assassin pointed at the basked full of bread and fruits before he ruffled my head. "Hopefully you will be well before I leave for tomorrow."

"Can't they send someone else to do your work, what if Altair comes in the night and slits my throat?" I whined.

"Ah, I take it you didn't speak nicely." he chuckled.

"Only because Hassan was acting like a jackass." I snorted, crossing my arms.

"... Hassan?"

"Yeah, big kid, about my age but an attitude coming from the assassin we all know and love." he caught my sarcasm at the end.

"Ah, that one." I felt a hand on my shoulder, making me look up to the bearded man. "Don't take his offense to heart, child. He's been through much."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean he has no mother to comfort him as his father is a harsh man who demands and expects too much of him."

"But that gives him no right—"

"Patience, Gabrielle," Abbas wisely says, patting my shoulder. "I don't want to have to return and still see you and him as enemies. That's the last thing Hassan needs. But, I believe, since you are your father's daughter, that you will get through to him."

"What? You're expecting me to hold hands and frolick in the meadows with him?" I questioned him, eyes wide.

"Exactly," he smiles.


End file.
